We Are One
by Precambrian Studios
Summary: Born as conjoined twins, Daria and Quinn Morgendorffer have to deal with somewhat terrified students and other irritating people.
1. The First Steps

Jake quickly peeked in his rear-view mirror to see his daughters to make sure they weren't strangling each-other. While a rare occurrence, it was still a frightening sight. "Girls, I just want you to know your mother and I realize it's not easy moving to a whole new town again-"

"Quit while you're ahead, Dad," interjected Quinn.

"We've heard that too many times now," added Daria. "And I think this is the second time we've told you to can it."

Jake swallowed hard. "I'm sorry girls. Well, maybe this school will be different-"

Quinn gave a snort. "Yeah, right. The last place had a better reputation than Lawndale High, and the administration still had no idea how to handle us." Quinn took a small mirror out of her left jeans pocket and checked her face. Her clothes she didn't need to worry about: she wore a boring red shirt.

Daria rolled her eyes. "How can you be so vain?"

Quinn shrugged. She put the mirror back into her pocket. "It's hard when you're a freak."

Daria blinked. "Not sure I've heard you be that cynical before."

"Ugh, Daria. You must be contagious." Daria chuckled at that, then called up to Jake, "So dad. When the students see us, what do you think? They'll scream and run first, or try to find some ray guns?"

Jake sighed. "I don't know, Daria. You could try making some friends."

"Friends? Impossible."

"Yeah, Daddy. Then they'd have to be my friends too."

Jake gave up. He had no words of encouragement left; he had used them all in the last four states. Please God, let this school be different, Jake prayed desperately.

They had arrived at Lawndale. Jake pulled up to the curb. He turned around to his daughters. "You have your backpack? Your lunches?"

"We're good, Dad," assured Daria.

"Do you two promise to help each other along?"

"I'll try to help Quinn through this period of adjustment," Daria said. She smiled at that. Quinn giggled at the irony. "Yeah. Okay Daria, leg out."

Daria stuck her leg out the car. Quinn moved hers.

"Do you got the car roof?" asked Quinn.

Daria grasped it. "Yup."

Quinn pushed herself, and Daria, out of the car. They stood up and observed the reactions of the students.

It wasn't too bad. One girl with brown hair screamed and pointed. A few others fainted. Everyone else couldn't stop staring.

Daria slung the backpack over her shoulder. Quinn took the other strap and swung it over hers. "Let's go," said Quinn quickly.

Sensing her sister was stressed at how they were being stared at, Daria quickened her pace. The girls walked into Lawndale High.

The girl with brown hair whispered to her friend, an Asian girl with black hair and an obtuse face, "Oh my God. A two-headed person! And what awful clothes!"

XXXX

"As you can see, our Lawndale High students take great pride in their school. That's why you'll each be taking a small psychological exam to spot any little clouds on the horizon as you sail the student seas of Lawndale High," explained Ms. Li. She was desperately trying not to stare at Daria and Quinn.

"Ugh, not another interrogation," whined Quinn.

"S.O.S. Sister in distress," replied Daria.

XXXX

"Next!" called Ms. Manson. Daria and Quinn walked into her office. Manson's eyes bugged out. "Oh. I was told that there were two Morgendorffers, but I didn't expect-"

"Nobody ever expects this," muttered Quinn.

"I'm sorry," said Manson hurriedly. "I've just never seen conjoined twins before."

"We're not twins," explained Daria. "We're the product of an experiment by an evil scientist. He lured us in with the promise of puppies."

Manson's eyebrows rose in a nervous panic. "Uh, okay. Well, please take a seat."

Daria and Quinn sat on a chair. With only one head-rest, the two began to squirm uncomfortably. Manson held up a large card.

"Now Quinn...er...which one of you is Quinn?"

"I'm Quinn," both heads said simultaneously. "Be quiet, Daria," Quinn ordered. Daria shrugged. She noticed a bead of sweat on Manson's brow as she raised the card.

"Okay Quinn. What do you see?" asked Manson. Quinn squinted at the card.

"Two people talking."

"Good, Quinn. What are they talking about?"

"The girl is saying, 'Will you go out with me?' and the guy is saying, 'Uh, no thanks. I uh, have plans for tonight."

"Very good, Qui-"

"And the girl says, 'Why? Because my sister just so happens to be attached to me?' And the guy says, 'Uh, no.' And the girl says 'Well you could at least give me a chance considering I like you a lot and I have some really nice qualities and you don't have to reject me just because I'm different-"

Manson quickly cut in. "Uh, thank you, Quinn, that was a very vivid description. Now, um Dora-"

"It's Daria," she replied irritably.

"Oh. I'm uh, sorry Daria. Could you please tell me what you see in this picture?" Manson asked nervously.

Daria turned her head, and noticed a small tear coming down Quinn's eye. Daria shrugged. "I can't top that."

XXXX

"Class, we have two new STUDENTS joining us today. Please welcome Daria and Quinn Morgendorffer. Daria and Quinn, raise your hands, please."

They did so.

"Now to save them the TROUBLE and everyone's time, Daria and Quinn are CONJOINED twins. They have two completely different minds, but share the same body. I feel that some of you require an EXPLANATION for this!" DeMartino stared at Kevin and Brittany, who hadn't taken their eyes off the Morgendorffers.

"You will treat them both with RESPECT, or else. Now Daria, last week we started the unit on westward expansion. Could you please INFORM the class about the doctrine of Manifest Destiny?"

Daria blinked. "Manifest Destiny was a slogan popular in the 1840s. It was used by people who claimed it was God's will for the U.S. to expand all the way to the Pacific Ocean. These people did not include many Mexicans."

"Very GOOD Daria. All right, class. Who can tell me which war Manifest Destiny was used to justify?"

As DeMartino turned his attention to his next target, Quinn whispered to Daria, "What's the answer?"

"Figure it out."

"Come on Daria. In this life, you're either a brain or a beauty. And I can only be one here."

Daria wouldn't have said anything, believing Quinn should have known the answer beforehand, but DeMartino suddenly threatened the class with double homework. "Mexican American War," she quickly whispered to Quinn.

Quinn raised her hand.

"YES, Quinn?"

"It was the Mexican American War."

DeMartino nodded. "Good, Quinn. Quite good. Class, pay ATTENTION to these two. You might actually LEARN something!"

Quinn tried to sink back into her chair as the class stared at them with greater intent than before, but was prevented by her other half.

XXXX

"So sweeties, how was your day?" Helen had stopped saying, 'How were your days' years ago.

"Awful," lamented Quinn. "Everyone looked at us like we were freaks. Again." Daria merely shrugged.

"It's only your first day Quinn. They'll warm up to you," Helen said encouragingly. "Right Jake?" No response. "JAKE?"

"Wuh?!" Jake tore his attention from his newspaper. "Uh, sure they will honey!" Helen glared at him, then turned her attention to Daria.

"And you, sweetie?"

"I think there may be some interesting morons in our class."

"At least they're not Beavis and Butt-Head," Quinn pointed out. Daria nodded in assent.

Helen smiled. "See? It's not Highland all over again." The phone over the kitchen counter rang. Helen stood up and went to answer it. "Hello? Yes, they're my daughters. I see. How long? Okay. Listen, will this require any parent-teacher conferences or anything, and if so, is this the sort of thing my assistant can handle? Okay, great. Bye!" She hung up and sat down at the table again. "You girls took a psychological test at school today?"

"Wasn't much of a test," said Daria.

Helen said sadly, "Well, they want the both of you to take a self-esteem class."

"Ugh!" cried Quinn. "Not again!"

Helen reached over and patted Quinn on the shoulder. "It's okay, honey. The school took your situation into consideration and you'll both be in the class for only two weeks. All the other students take it for six weeks."

"I'm sorry that you girls have low self-esteem. Believe me, I know what that's like," offered Jake.

"I don't have low self-esteem. I have low esteem for anyone who's lucky enough to be on their own in the bathroom," quipped Daria.

"Ugh, Daria! Not in front of Mom and Dad!" but the comment did bring a brief smile to Quinn's face.

XXXX

"Oh my God," moaned Quinn exasperatedly. She and her sister walked down the sidewalk alone. "Can you believe that class?"

"I know, right?" said Daria monotonously. She was more intent on reading Red Dragon than listening to her sister moan about O'Neill.

"That touchy-feely moron wouldn't even answer any of my questions!"

Daria closed the book. "They've probably put us in that class to make everyone else in it feel better about themselves."

"What?" Quinn looked enraged. "Really?"

Oi vei. "No Quinn. Although that's bound to happen, I don't think it was the principal's intent."

"Oh." Quinn looked at the ground, which strained Daria's neck.

"Ow, Quinn. Chin up."

"Oh, sorry. Hey Daria, do you think we'll ever make any friends?"

"I thought Beavis and Butt-Head were nice enough."

"Not funny."

Daria sighed. "I don't know, Quinn. We've been in so many towns by now, I wouldn't be surprised if we've been to the best ones."

"Shut up, Daria. Quit trying to make me feel bad."

"You tell me to shut up again, and I won't move my leg."

Quinn stopped. So did Daria. They stared angrily at each other. Then Quinn's shoulder sagged and she cast her eyes down. "Whatever. It's all hopeless."

Daria shrugged. "Pretty much." Quinn continued to mope. _Dammit, I have to cheer her up or else we're going to be out here all day._ "However, Quinn, Chaos Theory would indicate that our situation may change at some point. So something positive could happen eventually. Probably."

Quinn scoffed. "Yeah right." But she did start walking again, which was a good sign. After a little while, they reached the house and walked into the living room to discover that Helen was waiting for them.

Daria rose an eyebrow. "Mom? What are you doing her before 5:00?"

Helen smiled. "I know everything has been hard for you girls, so I decided to come home early and take you both out clothes shopping."

Quinn's face lit up. "Awesome! Can we go to Cashman's? Please please please?"

"Sure, sweetie."

"Do I have to come too?" joked Daria.

XXXX

Quinn picked out a long red gown. "Wow, this is pretty." Do you think Yvonne could tailor it for us?" Yvonne was their tailor in California. Recently, she had begun sending the Morgendorffers manuals on how to sew. Only Quinn took an interest.

Helen considered. "Probably. Although she'd have to make it a bit larger around the waist-line..."

"What about you Daria?" Quinn asked. "See anything to your preference?"

"Not unless they have spiked boots."

"We'd both have to wear spiked boots, then."

"Is there a downside to that?"

XXXX

"So, what are we talking about when we talk about ourselves? Anyone?" O'Neill searched for a hand. None came up. He smiled. Lately, he had noticed that most of his students were becoming really confident in themselves. He couldn't figure out why, but he was glad anyhow. Because not raising their hands meant they felt good. Right?

Daria drew a picture of a 16-ton weight falling on O'Neill's head while Quinn held the piece of paper down for her.

Suddenly a hand went up. O'Neill, still smiling, pointed at the hand. "Yes, you?"

"When I talk about myself, I'm usually talking to the voices in my head. They tell me cool things," expressed a girl in a red jacket.

O'Neil's heart sank. "Oh, um...well, that's nice, I guess." He laughed nervously. "Er...well, on with the lesson then."

"You mind turning around?" whispered Daria.

"Why?" Quinn responded.

"I want to make sure whoever said that isn't insane."

Quinn shrugged. Daria was always a good judge of character. They turned around. The girl with the red jacket gave a bored wave. She spoke at a normal volume: "Hey."

"Do the voices in your head know what O'Neill going to say next?" monotoned Daria.

"I hope so, considering I've been in the class half a dozen times."

Restraining her excited shout at the last moment, Quinn said hurriedly, "Can you tell us how to get out of this hellhole?"

"I don't see why not."

XXXX

Jane, Daria, and Quinn had agreed to walk home together after school, and Jane quickly delved into more detail on the self-esteem course: "Tomorrow will be a role-playing thing. Then afterwards, the girls get put into one room and are lectured on body-image-"

"Oh good. Because it's not like that we've heard that crap before," complained Quinn.

"And the guys are told it's okay to have nocturnal emissions."

"Eeeeewwwwwwwww," went Quinn.

Daria spoke up. "So Jane, how come you haven't gotten out of the class yet?"

"Gives me something to do, if that's saying something."

"Funny, me and Quinn have always felt it was a gargantuan waste of our time."

"Always? How many times have you taken this kind of a class?"

"Eight times," the twins responded. "And each time, I swear Daria gets even more misanthropic," chuckled Quinn.

Jane smiled, then looked nervous. "Hey, um, if you didn't mind me asking, how come you two aren't identical? I thought conjoined twins looked alike."

"We are identical," said Quinn.

Jane was surprised. The two looked nothing alike. "Really?"

"Well, we used to be."

Daria explained. "Quinn asked for an extreme makeover in the fourth grade, because she finally got sick of nobody being able to tell us apart and of little Catholic boys trying to perform exorcisms on us. Anyways, Quinn used to look exactly like me, but she had her hair dyed, contacts put in, and our grandmother even sent money for some plastic surgery. Quinn's been doing that squeaky voice for so long that it's become natural. We still had to deal with 'The power of Christ compels you!' though."

Jane whistled. "That's extensive."

A guilty look came over Quinn's face. "I was desperate. You don't know what it's like to be treated like a freak, even after you get the world's best facelift."

Jane shrugged. "I've had my share of abuse too. But I gotta admit, it sounds rough."

Daria chuckled. "Wait till we tell you about Highland-"

"Let's not go there," Quinn suggested quickly. At the mention of the last town, she shuddered. "So anyways, Jane. Can you get us out of this class?"

"Ah, come on sis. Where else will I listen to complete garbage to make me feel warm and fuzzy inside?"

"Just watch that tabloid channel."

"Oh!" cried Jane. "You watch Sick Sad World?"

Daria wrinkled her nose. "Sometimes. Me and Quinn have a mutual-benefit system. We do what the other wants every other day. On one day we'll watch SSW, and others fashion shows. Eugh."

"You're into fashion?" Jane inquired to Quinn.

"Yeah, I want to become a designer. Maybe to help other twins like me and Daria."

Daria shuddered. "Ugh. Helping people. And people think we're like peas in a pod..."

Jane laughed. "I'm going to have to bail out too. Hanging around you two is going to be fun, I can tell."

XXXX

"Oh, hello! Do you three have some questions?" asked O'Neill.

"We'd like to take the exit test, please," Quinn said hurriedly.

Confused, O'Neill cocked his head. "But you and your sister only have a week left. Are you sure?"

"Positive," said the twins. "We feel really good about ourselves," pressed Daria. "And we had never felt good in any of our other self-esteem classes. Must be the way you teach."

"Oh, thank you," said O'Neill happily. Then he noticed Jane. "Um. I think you need to stay in here a little longer-"

"No!" cried the twins. "She's fine, trust us," assured Daria.

"Oh, if you say so." O'Neill went over to his cabinet and pulled out a sheet of paper, and then sat back on his desk. "Okay, question one: 'Self-esteem is important because...'"

"It's a quality that will stand us in good stead the rest of our lives," Daria said.

"Very good. Now, 'The next time I start to feel bad about myself...'"

Jane spoke next. "Stand before the mirror, look myself in the eye and say, 'You are special. No one else is like you.'"

"You two really have been paying attention! Okay Quinn, this next one is for you. 'There's no such thing...'"

Quinn froze. She had no idea what to say. She could barely remember the material Jane had showed her. "Um, uh..."

O'Neill said skeptically, "Quinn, are you sure you have high self-esteem?"

Horrified, Daria heard her squeak, "No."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess you'll have to stay in the class then."

"Uh, Mr. O'Neill? Did Jane and I pass?" Daria asked.

"Oh, uh...yes, I think so." However, he looked somewhat unsure.

In her most convincing voice, Daria shot "Well, if I passed, then that means Quinn passed too. I mean, it's not like she has a choice to stay now that I can go..." Both she and Quinn were smiling now, and O'Neill looked like he was choosing between a new car and an apartment.

"Oh, uh, well-"

Jane stepped forward. "Mr. O'Neill. Daria is a very confident person. I'm sure some of that confidence will rub off on her sister." She turned her head to Daria and Quinn and rose her eyebrows as if to say, 'Right?' The twins nodded vigorously.

O'Neill perked up. "Well, I suppose you're right. Okay, all of you can go."

XXXX

"That went better than I thought it would. I've heard that the really 'good' students get certificates at a school assembly," said Jane after they walked outside.

"Thank God we skipped out on that," Quinn sighed.

Daria shrugged. "I don't know. We could have done our 'special stunt' to scare them."

Quinn grimaced. "No way."

Jane stared. "Special stunt?"

"It's what we used to get out of Highland," Daria explained. "Quinn was so desperate to get out of there. She's made me promise that we'll never do it again, though."

Jane would have pressed, but decided it was best not to ask too many questions. Too many, that is: "So, there's this UFO thing at the convention center during this weekend. Wanna go?"

Daria shook her head. "It's Quinn's turn to pick something to do for the weekend. And that usually means we're going to go clothes browsing."

"Oh," expressed a disappointed Jane.

Quinn sighed. "I could go to a UFO convention."

Both Daria and Jane said, "Really?"

"Sure," smiled Quinn. "What are friends for?"

Jane gave a grin. "Hey, you know, you two could draw quite a crowd..."

Terror suddenly overcame Quinn. "Well, maybe..."

Daria interjected, "We'll wear that pink shirt you bought, for two of my days."

Quinn grinned. "Deal."


	2. A Night to Remember (Certainly)

"Hey Quinn, when are you going to stop following me?" Daria joked as they walked into school, in a rare display of good humor. Quinn rolled her eyes.

XXXX

"Perspective is so hard!" whined Brittany, who sat a meter away from Daria and Quinn. Quinn, irritated by her whining, leaned her head toward Brittany and asked, "Do you need help?"

"Eeek!" went Brittany, realizing who had addressed her. She blushed and scooched away from the twins. Quinn sighed sadly. She continued on her drawing, which was being held down by a couple wooden blocks that DeFoe had provided. Daria, having finished her drawing, had taken out Eaters of the Dead.

Brittany inched toward Jane. "Hey Jane, could you help me with this? You know, cause you're an artist?"

Jane flinched upon hearing Brittany's squeaky voice. "I'm a bit busy here, Brittany," she mumbled, concentrating on her work.

"Pleeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssss-"

"Okay, okay! Goddammit. What have you got so far?"

Brittany showed her paper to Jane, who recoiled in horror. "Woah. Um, okay, the first thing you got to do is..."

XXXX

"So then she asked me to come to her party as a thank-you, but also to emphasize how pretty some of the other cheerleaders look," Jane explained at the lunch table. Daria and Quinn were each drinking a single bowl of soup. After taking a spoonful, Daria wiped her mouth and said monotonously, "You sure she wasn't stoned when she asked you?"

"Nope. Although she seemed a bit more vacant than usual..."

"Never been to a party before," Quinn sadly reminisced. "People've been too scared to invite us."

"What a shame," Daria said. "All those missed opportunities to scare the hell out of people."

"I've always wanted to go to a high-school party," Quinn said. She half-heartedly slurped up more of her soup, and then started to stare at the table.

Jane sighed. "Well, I guess if I went, I could take you both as guests. I'm sure Brittany won't mind too much."

Quinn smiled and said "Cool!" while Daria went "No!" at the same time. "You'd really do that Jane?" Quinn asked eagerly.

Jane considered both Daria and Quinn: Daria desperately shook her head, while Quinn nodded with new, hopeful resolve. Jane thought, _Ugh. I hate my conscience... _"Yeah, I will. Sorry Daria."

Daria slapped her hand to her face. "Great. A party. For a cheerleader. Can't I swallow some glass instead?"

Jane pushed her cup across the table to Daria. "How's plastic for you?"

XXXX

As they relaxed on the couch watching SSW, Quinn asked Daria, "So, um, I hope you aren't too bothered about this party..."

Daria yawned. She turned the TV off and turned her head to face Quinn. "I thought you gave up trying to be social. And you hate crowds."

Quinn gave a nervous shrug. "Yeah, I do. But these are people our age, Daria. Jane's nice and all, but I would like to make a few more friends."

"Pick wisely. Because if they're idiots, I am never going to shut up when you want to hang around them."

"Come on, Daria. Can you at least try to help me out tonight?"

Daria moaned at the thought of being actively social. "Do I have to?"

Quinn thought for a moment. Then she rose her finger in the air for emphasis. "I'll make you a compromise if you agree. Either you pick out the outfit for first impressions tonight and help me talk to people, or you can let me pick and talk however you want."

Daria shriveled in horror. "Can't we just use a laser to slice ourselves apart and I can stay home?"

XXXX

Helen called to the upstairs floor, "Girls! Time to go!"

"Coming!" called Quinn. The following exchange was somewhat quieter: "Come on, it looks nice."

"I feel like I've been done up like some politician's wife."

"Get over it. You let me pick, so don't complain."

"Touche, Quinn."

"Okay, you can't speak French at the party."

They walked out. Daria and Quinn were wearing the sleek, sparkly red dress that Yvonne had designed for them a year prior. Helen shifted nervously. "Um, isn't this just a regular high-school party?"

Quinn pulled at her hair anxiously. "I want to show people that I, or we, can actually look nice. And it's also to distract people from my unfashionable sister."

Daria cocked an eyebrow. "Wouldn't that make you unfashionable?"

"God, Daria, you make such good jokes but can't understand mine."

"Point."

"Okay, girls, let's go," Helen said. The three walked out to the car. Once seated, their mother asked, "So, where does Jane live?"

Daria thought for a moment. "She said it was somewhere around the rail-road tracks."

Helen groaned. "That's helpful."

"I'll go find a map," Daria sighed.

"You mean we'll find a map," Quinn corrected.

XXXX

Helen pulled up next to the ratty yellow house. "Ooh, they really need to renovate this place..." Quinn and Daria exited the car and walked up to the door. Quinn poked the doorbell. After a few moments, a quite exhausted-looking young man answered it. Quinn took a step back.

"Hey," he said slowly. "Sorry, we're not supporters of the circus." The twins tried not to look offended.

"We're here to see Jane," Daria explained. "Are you her brother?"

He gave a long, booming yawn and stretched his arms. "Yeah, Trent. I'll go get her." He disappeared.

"Well, he looked pretty gross," Quinn commented. "And that smell. Eugh. Like cheese mixed with rotten eggs."

"With a touch of reefer."

An equally tired-looking Jane appeared, holding a sketchpad under one arm. "Hey, me amigas," she said with an unenthusiastic wave. Sorry about my-" (yawn) "brother. He and I have been pretty worn. We got an eviction notice today."

The twins hearts' skipped a beat. "Are you going to be okay?" Daria inquired. "Because our mom's a lawyer, and she could probably-"

"No biggie. I was actually able to convince the agents that they got the wrong house. Trent and I have been making a lot of phone calls to set things right, so don't-" (prolonged yawn) worry."

Quinn started walking back to the car and beckoned. "Come on!"

"Coming!" called Jane, who started to sway on her feet. Eventually, she stumbled to the car.

Helen turned around. "Hello, I'm Helen. I'm very happen to meet you, Jane, it's been so long since Quinn and Daria-"

Jane yawned again. "Thanks, glad to meet you too. Now let's get to the party before I drop."

XXXX

Helen stopped the car a half-block away from the Taylor residence. "Have fun, girls. I'll be back to pick you up in about an hour and a half."

"Thanks, mom." Quinn said. She, Daria, and Jane got out of the car and walked toward the gate to the Taylor's house. Helen drove away.

"So, what's the plan when we get inside?" Jane asked.

Quinn shrugged. "Going to try to talk to people, which is going to be a challenge, what with Daria snarking off and all."

Daria cocked her head. "You think that's the least of our worries?"

Quinn looked down. "I was trying to be optimistic."

They approached the guard, who jumped once he looked up from his clipboard and saw Daria and Quinn.

"Woah! Uh, are you guests?"

"I am," said Jane. "Jane Lane. These two are my guests. And if you have any problem with me bringing them to the party, say so now."

The guard gulped and quickly flipped through his clip-board. "Lane, Lane, Lane, ah! Ok, you can go in."

"Thank you." The three headed on to the Taylor's house.

XXXX

_Ding!_ "Kevvie! Get the door!"

"Okay, babe!" Kevin opened it, and jumped back. "Woah! The two-headed thing!"

The twins walked in, but Quinn shrank back a little in embarrassment. Sensing her sister's discomfort, Daria monotoned to Kevin, "If you think two heads is scary, imagine what it's like for conjoined twins to have PMS at the same time. Would you like us to re-enact that for you, Kevin?"

"EEK!" He fled. Luckily, nobody seemed to have heard that, as everyone was so far still concentrated on their drinks and had not noticed the twins' arrival.

'So Jane," Daria pressed, "Are you going to do some sketching or are you going to spike the punch bowl?"

Jane blinked heavily. "I, my friend, am going to go through that door yonder, and fall asleep regardless of whether or not there's a bed." Jane walked off to fulfill that desire.

A red-headed boy immediately walked up to the twins, to their surprise. "Hellooooooo, ladies, may I dazzle you with a magic trick?"

"That depends. How good is your disappearing act?" Daria quipped.

"Rowr, feisty. And what about you, my darling?" he inquired to Quinn. "Are you interested in magic?"

"I'm interested in why you haven't fled in terror," Quinn stated honestly.

"Two heads are better than one, rerrr. May I give you two a tour of the manor?"

"Is there a charge?" asked Daria.

"No."

"Do you take tips?"

"Of course!"

"Remove whatever the hell is living on top of your cranium."

XXXX

"And behind this door is the master bedroom, with a king-sized bed with extra supports and featuring such delightful accessories such as a reverberating-"

"Okay thank you," Quinn hurriedly interjected, "But we really have to go now goodbye forever." The twins quickly walked off.

"Holy crap was he creepy. At least Beavis and Butt-Head were frank but him? Eugh..."

"And at least Beavis and Butt-Head had charm," added Daria. "I'm kidding," she said after noticing Quinn's appalled face.

XXXX

An hour later, Daria and Quinn sat on the couch in defeat. Nobody had tried to talk to them yet, and apparently Jane had yet to finish her nap, as was nowhere to be found. Eventually Quinn announced, "Well, this sucks."

"I concur," responded her sister. "Wanna go find Jane, leave, and bribe mom for pizza?"

Quinn squinted. "Yeah, just a moment..." she spotted something interesting: a girl waving her hand over her clothing, and pointing at the clothes of another girl. "I wanna go talk to someone."

"I'll just stay here, then."

"Come on." They got up and headed over to a brown-haired girl with a snooty face. "Hello. I'm Quinn."

"And I'm the tumor," Daria asserted.

Quinn ignored that. She said in the most enthusiastic voice she had at her disposal, "I saw you observing some people's clothing. Are you into fashion?"

The brown-haired girl said, "Well, I am the _president_ of the Fashion Club, so yes. I am."

Quinn's face brightened. "There's a Fashion Club? Oooh! I'd love to join that! I'm into fashion too; I draw lots of designs. Can I sign up?" A look of panic came over Daria's face.

The brown-haired girl looked the twins up and down. "I admit, it's quite impressive how you two are able to make that dress look fashionable. But we don't admit freaks into the Fashion Club." Quinn looked as though she had been punched.

Daria spoke up. "Before you judge me and my sister, I'll tell you now that my sister is a brilliant designer. She won an award in California. Your club would be lucky to have her." Daria took step forward threateningly, and Quinn followed suit. "And if you call us a freak again, you'll know what it feels like to be head-butted by two people at once." The brown-haired girl quickly stepped back.

XXXX

"Wow, Daria. That was so unlike you," Quinn commented outside as they waited for Helen.

"I know. I threatened someone. With punk tactics. Haul me away to the loony bin."

"No, you helped me get into a club." Quinn eyed her sister curiously. "You do realize if I get in, you're going to have to participate too."

Daria sighed. "I know." She smiled. "So you owe me big time."

Quinn paled. "What do you want?"

Daria shrugged. "I'll have to think about it."

Quinn craned her neck to check again whether or not she could see their missing friend: "Hey! I see Jane!"

Sure enough, the artist herself walked over. Daria noticed there were several lipstick-kiss marks on her face. "What the hell happened to you?" she inquired.

Jane sat down onto the curb and tiredly rubbed her face. "I have no idea. All I remember was falling down on the floor in a laundry-room to sleep and I wake up and there's drool all over me."

Daria's eyebrows flew upward. She declared "Well, it's been one interesting night."


	3. Quinn's Interview

"I'm starting to regret this. And we haven't even gotten there yet," Daria remarked as she and Quinn walked toward the Griffin residence. A few hours prior, they had received a message from a girl named Tiffany: a meeting had been called to evaluate Quinn for a position within the Fashion Club. So the twins came prepared: Daria had _Candide_ to read in order to assuage the inevitable boredom and irritation. Quinn was bringing her 'Style' portfolio, in which she kept most of her sketches, and an article cut out from from Highland High's school newspaper.

"Come on Daria. You might like it." Daria scowled at her sister. "And besides, you knew what you were getting yourself into when you threatened Sandi."

"After she called us a freak."

"You were being nice to me, admit it."

"Never."

A few minutes later, they arrived at the Griffin residence, and Quinn knocked on the front door. "Will you at least help me out if I ask you to?"

"I gave you a recommendation, Quinn. Don't push it."

The door opened slightly. A face appeared in the crack. Well, at least one half of it did. "Oh, um, hi. Are you here for the meeting?"

Quinn nodded. "I'm Quinn Morgendorffer and this is-"

"Her very close cousin," Daria monotoned. Quinn poked her sister in the head for that jibe. The face in the doorway looked the twins up and down: they were wearing dark jeans and a jet-black t-shirt, and Quinn wore some matching earrings. The door opened all the way, and the twins finally got to see the person that the half-face belonged to: a girl with brown hair with pigtails, wearing a yellow shirt, blue jacket, and light jeans. Daria looked down: her knees were visibly knocking against each other.

The girl extended her hand awkwardly, which Quinn accepted. "Hi, I'm Stacy Rowe, club secretary. Tiffany and Sandi are on the second floor." And with that, she fled upstairs.

Quinn swallowed nervously. "What good will I be to a club that's afraid of me?"

Daria gave a shrug. "Fear is a powerful tool, my sibling. Use it to conquer."

Quinn smirked. "You got that from a book."

"Dammit. I've been found out." Daria checked her watch. "Now let's get this damn thing over with so we can go home and I can read some decent satire."

XXXX

The twins walked into Sandi's room, which was adorned with various posters of young women in pretty dresses. Fashion magazines were strewn across the floor.

Sandi, Tiffany, and Stacy were sitting in a straight line on Sandi's bed. Sandi had her arms crossed over a fair-looking dress skeptically, Tiffany looked rather detached, and Stacy was averting her eyes. In front of them was a plastic pink chair. Daria and Quinn sat on it, and soon began to battle for the headrest.

Sandi spoke up. "So. I am obliged to call this meeting because one of you requested membership, and the other threatened me with bodily harm if I did not." Sandi eyed Daria with obvious distaste. Daria started back with a stoic expression. "So, the Fashion Club will hear your case," Sandi said, a hint of disinterest in her tone.

Daria opened Candide, and Quinn took out her binder. "Okay. I've been interested in fashion my whole life. I've been drawing designs for the past few years, and when we lived in California I received an award-"

"Yes," Sandi interrupted. "I was told." She eyeballed Daria again, who didn't look up.

Quinn swallowed. "So, um, anyways, I can also sew, and I've read several books on fashion, ranging from history to design. Also, when we lived in Texas, me and my sister collaborated on an article for the school paper." Quinn handed it to Sandi. She looked it over for a few minutes, then looked up.

"Impressive. Is your sister interested in fashion?" Daria still did not look up. Quinn rocked a little to get her attention. Daria sighed in defeat.

"No, I have no interest in fashion. I only took the pictures for the article."

Sandi looked down at it again. "It says you were the editor."

"The paper was run by nincompoops." Stacy giggled, but she was quickly silenced by a glare from Sandi.

Quinn spoke up again, using her most confident voice, "Look. I know you feel kinda strange, considering me when I have my bookish sister attached to me. But I'm really interested in fashion, and I promise I'll come to every club meeting."

Daria's head shot up. "Hold on a-"

"I promise," Quinn swiftly interjected with a raised voice.

"Very well," Sandi announced. "We will take your case into consideration. Until then, this meeting is adjourned. You are dismissed."

Quinn opened her mouth again, but just whispered, "Okay." The twins walked out of the room, and out of the Griffin house.

After they had gone, Tiffany spoke first. "Sheeeee seeeems reeaally sweeeet."

"Looks can be deceiving," responded Sandi defiantly. "And I will not admit some_thing_ that will cause our well-earned popularity to crash and burn."

"But, Sandi-" said Stacy.

Sandi shot her a look. "YES, Stacy?"

Stacy shrank back, intimidated. "Nothing," she squeaked.

XXXX

Daria's face was completely blanched. "Every meeting? EVERY meeting? Quinn, there's a fine line between being involved and being cruel."

"But Daria, I've never been part of a club before, and you know what fashion means to me."

"Quinn, I refuse to sit through daily meetings with girls whining about how their seams are coming undone! Don't forget our system."

Quinn sighed, and mentally recalled the pledge she and Daria had made long ago, back when looking at Daria was like looking in a mirror: _I hereby swear that for every thing that brings me happiness, I will ensure that equal measure will be bestowed upon my sister._ Daria had made her recite it daily for two months.

"I know, Daria. I know. I promise I'll think of something."


	4. And a One, and a Two

"So, how was your college visit?" inquired Jane at the lunch table, while Daria and Quinn shared a large hamburger between themselves.

After swallowing a bite, Daria replied, "Well, when our guide took us to her dorm, the first thing her roommate said to us was, 'Okay, who spiked my beer again?'"

"And then she asked us to type up a paper for her," added Quinn with a note of disdain in her voice.

Jane cocked her head in curiosity. "Is there a problem with that?"

"With each of us controlling only one hand, and with our differing ideas, using keyboards can swiftly become a pain in the ass," explained Daria. "That's why we usually write our work by hand."

"So I take it you aren't fond of cyber-cafes?" Jane asked. The whole school had quickly heard of the theft that had taken place the night before.

"There are things far more worthy of being hit with bricks," Daria remarked. She looked past Jane and eyed Kevin.

XXXX

O'Neill put down his old, rotting book, and addressed his students in his small voice, "Class, I thought today we'd take a break from the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet to discuss the real life tragedy that happened last night here in Lawndale. Let's share our feelings of violation following the loss of our beloved cybercafé, .com. Who would like to start?" He noticed that Kevin was staring at the Morgendorffers again. "Charles? Charles, did you hear me?" Kevin continued to stare. "Charles?" After another half-minute of repeating 'Charles' over and over again, O'Neill eventually checked his seating chart to make sure he was addressing the correct person. "Kevin! What do you think?"

Kevin finally turned his head to face O'Neill. "Uh, I think it was awesome that Romeo seized the moment with his babe the night after-"

"NO, Kevin. No," O'Neill interrupted hastily, his face turning a light shade of pink. "What's your opinion on the cyber-cafe break-in?"

Kevin's face scrunched up as he attempted to think of the correct response. "Uh, it's uh, sad?"

"Are you asking or telling me?"

"Telling you?"

O'Neill sighed. "Jodie? What do you think?"

Jodie replied, "I think the cybercafé served one very particular segment of the community, but it still pisses me off when people take what isn't theirs. "

O'Neill smiled in satisfaction at getting a rare straight answer. "Thank you. Jodie, about that word, 'community.' Isn't that the whole idea of a cybercafé? To jack us into the global community? I think what's most disturbing about this crime is the symbolism involved. Don't you agree, Jane?"

"Do I get extra credit for agreeing?"

"Uh, no."

"Then I think what's so interesting is that whoever committed the vandalism didn't go for the bank. Lots of windows there too."

The twins smirked.

O'Neill gulped nervously. "Well, um, I personally think that it's a travesty and a tragedy that we can no longer serve and be a part of the online community-"

Daria rolled her eyes. "Give me a break."

O'Neill turned to her. "Yes, Quinn?"

"It's Daria."

O'Neill began to tremble. "I'm, ur, sorry Daria. Why do you think that way?"

Daria cocked her head. "What kind of community is it when you communicate with people online when you never get to learn their real names? And on top of that, you sit in a room full of people that you'll never talk to."

Quinn added, "And who probably never even bother to shower like barbarians."

"So," concluded O'Neill, "Daria, you believe that the cafe was alienating us from each other as individuals. And Quinn, you think that the cafe represented a lack of basic culture?"

Before the twins could both say, "No, that's not what I meant," O'Neill smiled and said, "Class, these two have given me a brilliant idea! Let's create a coffee house that will encourage socialization and the arts! It will be a traditional coffee house of yore, and will be totally student-friendly! Let's give it up for Daria and Quinn for such a brilliant inspiration!"  
_  
Oh, give me a goddamn break.  
Please don't keep looking at me please stop staring at me it wasn't my idea..._

XXXX

"Whatever you do, do not mention this coffee house fiasco to mom or dad," Quinn pleaded as Daria twisted their home's doorknob.

"Hey, mutual benefit, remember?" Daria replied. The twins walked inside, and found Helen waiting for them. _Oh crap, _the twins thought to themselves.

Helen was smiling, which made them even more fearful. "Girls, I just got a call from Mr. O'Neill. He says that you two came up with the idea for the new cyber cafe! I'm really proud of you both!" she gave the twins a hug.

Daria said into Helen's left ear, "Apologies, mom. We shall not be participating."

Helen withdrew with a look of surprise on her face. "Why not! You girls are both really talented. And you could get some extra credit from this! Why not give it a try?"

Daria was about to come up with a sarcastic response, but she shut her mouth and let Quinn's explanation substitute: "Crowds, mom. Of people. Staring. At me," Quinn whimpered.

"At us," Daria corrected. "Besides, mom, everybody would probably expect us to throw on a circus act."

"That's not true, Daria. I know you two could definitely impress." Helen thought for a few moments. Then she looked up at the twins with a smile. "You could use Old Squeaky."

Daria and Quinn recoiled. "No way, mom," Quinn asserted.

"We haven't used it in at least a year," Daria pointed out. "And we'd have to haul it into the cafe anyway. IF we decided to participate. Which we will not."

Helen crossed her arms over her chest. "Daria. Quinn," she said in an assertive tone, "Neither of you have anything interesting to put on your college applications so far. I think this would be a great way for you two girls to be able to open up to your classmates and get credit. Besides, you don't necessarily have to use Squeaky." Helen now addressed Quinn only, "And there could be a visit to Cashman's in the mix too..."

_Dammit. Now I'm totally screwed,_ Daria bemoaned.

XXXX

"You two are going to do what?" asked Jane skeptically over pizza.

Daria sighed. She wiped her mouth with the cheap restaurant napkin and said, "We have no choice. She said that if we didn't do it, we'd have to share a few more body parts by the time she was through with us."

"You big fat liar," Quinn grinned.

Jane leaned back in her booth. "What else are you two hiding from me, besides that 'special stunt' thing?" Quinn shuddered.

"Well," said Daria, "We are currently concealing two six-shooters up both of our sleeves."

Jane smiled. Then she snapped her fingers. "You know what?"

"No, we don't," Daria said.

"Ha ha. I think I should bring my brother. He really gets a kick out of this kind of stuff."

"Revolving pistols?" Quinn said, momentarily confused.

Jane shook her head. "No, what you guys are doing."

Daria and Quinn uneasily remembered the man who had thought they were part of a circus ac. "If you really need to," Daria mumbled.

XXXX

O'Neill heard his door open. He looked to his right and shrank away somewhat at the sight of the twins. "Oh, hello Daria, Quinn. What can I, er, help you with?" He had learned to remember their names, after his brief humiliation in class.

"We want to sign up for the coffee house gig," Daria said.

"And we're going to need some expensive equipment for it," Quinn continued. She handed a piece of paper to O'Neill that had a picture of what the twins required.

O'Neills face immediately lit up. "Oh my!" He jumped out of his seat excitedly. "Well, that's just...wow! Yes, a friend of mine, Chris McCoy, he has one of these! I'm sure I can get one for you! Oh, I'm really excited to see what you'll do with this!"

Daria grimaced. "That makes one of us."

XXXX

They threw off the sheet covering 'Old Squeaky.' "Eugh," Quinn commented. "It's even nastier looking than I remember."

"Sh, Quinn. You'll hurt its feelings. These things have to be treated with care, you know."

"Ha ha. Do you have the piece we need?"

Daria held it in her hand. "Yup."

Quinn sighed. "Okay, let's give it a shot."

XXXX

There was quite a crowd at the new coffee house that night. A multitude of students with no obligation to be where they were sat in rickety wooden chairs, holding cups of tap water (and liquids that looked like tap water). Trent sat next to Jane, unimpressed with the new establishment. "You know, I liked this place better when it had all the nice lights," he said.

Some of Daria and Quinn's teachers sat in the back, after having been invited by an enthusiastic O'Neill. Even Helen and Jake had managed to come at the cost of missing quite a few phone calls.

The object Daria and Quinn requested sat on the stage, taking up at least half of its space, covered by a sheet.

XXXX

After Andrea finished reading her poem (which had visibly frightened quite a few people in the crowd), O'Neill took to the stage. "Thank you all so much for coming! And now, for our grande finale, I present Daria and Quinn Morgendorffer!" Polite applause momentarily broke the silence.

Daria and Quinn left the security of their chair and walked up on stage to the microphone. Quinn moved the microphone in front of her mouth, but paused after she saw everyone staring at her. Daria felt their body tremble. Daria whispered in the softest voice possible, so that the microphone would not pick her up: "I am here, so you have nothing to worry about."

Quinn swallowed. She eventually plucked up the courage to speak. "Uh, hi, thanks for coming everyone. I, uh, hope you like it."

Daria concluded, "She means we," which was not what Daria wanted to say, but felt it was best to say.

They walked up to the sheet. Daria grasped it and theatrically threw it offstage, revealing a shiny, magnificent black grand piano. The twins took a seat on the bench. Quinn placed the piece of sheet music on the piano's stand. Each twin took a breath and cracked their respective fingers. With Daria playing melody, and Quinn chords, they solemnly played the theme from _Schindler's List._

XXXX

The last bar faded away. Quinn and Daria stood up to face the audience. The blinding lights prevented them from seeing the faces of the audience, but they could hear O'Neill's racking sobs. Besides that, dead silence. The twins walked off-stage. Some mouths were gaping open. A few faces had tears streaming down them. In the back, Helen gave Jake a hug. There was no applause.

Daria and Quinn sat next to Jane. "How was it?" Quinn whispered.

Jane said softly, "You put John Williams to shame. I thought Daria said you couldn't use keyboards."

Quinn shrugged. "When Daria and I played the piano together, sometimes we felt like we were truly united."

"Hey Daria. Nice job," said Trent, who gave her a pat on the shoulder. Daria gave a blush which was hidden by the dim lighting.

XXXX

"**School-teacher Timothy O'Neill announced that the grand opening of the new teen-centered coffee house was a rousing success. After a night of interesting presentations, conjoined twins Daria and Quinn Morgendorffer stole the show at the night's finale when they expertly played the theme from Steven Spielberg film **_**Schindler's List,**_** composed by John Williams. O'Neill had said that he's confident the coffee house will be a continuing success, and that he hopes that the twins will play again**," Jake read from the local paper with pride in his voice.

Daria groaned. "Great. We're famous."

Quinn shrugged. "Lighten up, Daria. Enjoy the moment." Her sister groaned again. Quinn sighed. "You now have an entire newspaper article to put into a college application."

Daria gave another sigh. She gave her sister a side glance. "WE have a whole article, Quinn. We," Daria corrected. She smiled.


	5. Heart of Darkness (In a Mall)

"Aw, come on, mom! Why can't we go?" Quinn whined indignantly over dinner.

"Because, sweetie," explained Helen wearily. "The mall is over a hundred miles away."

"A hundred miles?!" cried Jake. "There's no goddamn way in hell I'm going to drive a hundred-"

"Jake!" Helen interjected. "I just said we weren't going."

"Oh." Jake relaxed in his chair again and smiled guiltily. "Sorry."

Quinn continued to plead. "But mom, I want to see all the clothing stores and do some more research to impress the Fashion Club so I can get in!"

Helen frowned. "They still haven't accepted you?"

Quinn bowed her head. At the sight of her downtrodden sister, Daria gave a sigh and tried to help. "There's also this new bookstore at the mall, mom. Largest in the country. They may have the guide for conquering the world I need."

"What?! No daughter of mine is going to conquer-"

"JAKE!"

"Sorry!"

"Please mom? Pleeeeeeease?" Quinn tried.

Helen sighed and crossed her arms. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it."

XXXX

That night, after a half-hour of futile attempts to sleep, Quinn gave her sister a poke. "Daria, wake up."

"Sam, you rotten little bastard, I swear if you go and get yourself killed out there-"

"Psssst! Daria! Wake up!"

"Ugh...what is it? Have mom and dad finally come to smother us?"

"I just wanted to say thanks for trying."

Daria opened one eye. "Digesting lasagna is difficult work, Quinn. I assure you I gave it my all."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I meant for trying to convince mom to go to the mall."

Daria shrugged. "I can't believe I'm helping you. A few years ago I never would have dreamed of it."

Quinn grimaced. "Those were bad days." She remembered the time when Daria, furious over Quinn's incessant hogging of the TV (this was of course before they established their mutual benefit system) refused to reach for the toilet paper in the bathroom, finally relenting after Quinn agreed to a two-hour SSW marathon.

Daria shriveled at the memory of Quinn drinking excessive amounts of prune juice to make them both uncomfortable.

"We've had worse," Daria pointed out.

XXXX

Bennett drew up some diagrams on the board. Quinn whispered to Daria, "Why is she drawing all those x's and o's?"

"She's trying and failing to play tic tac toe with herself."

Bennett turned her attention back to her class. "In economics, we call this flow. We have a scenario of supply and demand, where a new demand is created by a previous supply. Does everyone follow? Can anyone give me a concrete representation of this abstract theory? Quinn?"

Quinn froze. "Um, well, uh, if a clothing shop had a lot of new dresses on sale, then they would sell more?"

Bennett nodded. "That's good, Quinn."

Quinn smiled, and quickly added, "So that's why people go to malls. Because there's so much stuff!"

Bennett nodded, now somewhat impressed. "Very acute of you Quinn. There's a definite relationship between the amount of merchandise in a mall, and the amount of people who go to shop there." Bennett put her pencil to her lips in thought, then looked up. "You know, that would make an excellent field trip!"

"All right! Field trip!" Kevin enthused. He leaned over to the student sitting next to him. "Where are we going, man?"

The student shook his head. He thought, _She just said, you idiot._ "The mall."

Bennett concluded. "We'll visit that brand new Mall of the Millennium. It's a perfect emblem of a modern day economic structure."

Quinn almost started bouncing in her seat. "Awesome! I've been wanting to-" then she caught herself. "Um, I mean-it would make for an interesting experience."  
_  
Uh oh_, thought Daria.

"We'll take a vote, announced Bennett. "All in favor of a class trip to the mall next Friday instead of our usual surprise quiz? " The class broke out into spontaneous cheers, including Quinn, which brought Daria some momentary pain in her ear.

"All opposed?"

Daria and Jane rose their hands, to no avail.

Kevin and Brittany began to blither about malls, giving Daria a distraction while she could think up a decent excuse. _Uh, need something good, need something believable. _

Daria rose her hand. "Mrs. Bennett. Quinn and I can't go. I heard the new mall uses a kind of chemical in their filtration we're allergic to."

Quinn looked at her in amazement, and thought, _Wow, Daria. You're seriously that desperate to get out of this?  
_  
"Sorry, Daria, you can't pull that one on me," Mrs. Bennett smiled. "The Mall of the Millennium uses no chemicals in their filtration system."

Daria sagged in defeat, and then whispered to her sister, "I can lie, or I can pull off 'the stunt.'"

Quinn blanched. "You wouldn't dare."

Daria lowered her head in implication. Quinn swallowed.

XXXX

Mrs. Bennett spoke up so the rest of the class on the bus could hear her. "Sealed in glass though it may be, in its own way the mall can be viewed as a living organism."

Quinn cocked her head. She asked Daria, "She didn't just say..."

Daria gave her sister the 'are you kidding me?' look. Quinn looked away.

Jane leaned over. "So, my friends, whatcha think we're going to do once we get to zombie central?"

Daria gave a shrug. "Spend as much money as possible on cheap food and gawk at shop windows?"

"Hey Daria," Quinn inquired. "If we get the opportunity, do you think we could go to a few clothing stores?"

Daria considered for a moment, and then said, "Quid pro quo, my dear sister. Afterwards, we hit the book shop."

"Deal."

"Hellooooooooo, dear ladies." To the horror of the trio, Upchuck had decided to make an appearance. Keeping his grin, he suddenly brandished a shiny credit card from his shirt-pocket. "Are you aware of the advantages of a gold card? Very advantageous when it belongs to your father. Dad wants me to pick up some bikinis for his secretary." He laughed seedily. "But I need a model. Jane, you're about her size. What do you say?"

Jane considered the gold card. "Can I use it for a professional assassin?"

Upchuck grinned. "Reeerrrrrr. A hard to get one, are we?"

Jane rolled her eyes. Suddenly, she heard retching noises. She turned and saw that Daria and Quinn both had their hands cupped over their mouths. "Uh, you two okay?"

Quinn shook her head. Daria moaned. "Ugh, open a window before we lose our lunches."

"Allow me, my fair maidens," offered Upchuck. Stepping beside them, he grasped the window and pushed upward. The window remained stuck. Again and again Upchuck persisted, without fruition.

Jane looked at the twins with much concern. "The downside of a seriously-screwed up gastric system, huh?"

Daria gave another retch. "This is nothing, you should see what New Years Even food-poisoning looks-URP! like."

Quinn moaned. "What the hell is that smell?"

Jane shrugged. "I dunno. Hey, I think there's an emergency pail in the back, why don't you-" the twins had already bolted out of their seats and headed towards the back of the bus. But they felt themselves getting sicker, and realized they were getting closer to the source of their queasiness. Upon reaching the source, Daria looked at the origin point of the stink: Kevin and Brittany, a known wearer of Diore perfume, were sweaty from a heavy make-out session. The rank odor, coupled with the sight they were witnessing, was the last straw for the twins.

XXXX

"How could you two do such a thing?" growled Bennett outside the mall. A few cars away, Brittany was on the ground sobbing, completely covered in yellow bile, while Kevin could only stare at the twins in complete horror.

"Honestly, Mrs. Bennett," pleaded Quinn. "It was their fault. Brittany had this awful perfume on, and it was making us sick, and they were touching each other, and-"

"Wait," Bennett interjected. "What exactly do you mean by touching each other?"

Quinn grew red in the face. "Uh, um, no, um, that's not what I meant-"

Daria cut in. "They were making out, and we puked on them. That's the end of it. Our condition doesn't exactly allow for stable stomachs, Mrs. Bennett." Quinn looked at her in confusion. _Our condition? We're not that...oh. You manipulative little...heh. You rock, sis._

Their teacher suddenly looked somewhat ashamed. "Oh. Uhm, I didn't think of that. I'm sorry, I should have been more considerate. Are you two feeling better now?"

Daria took a peek at the puke-covered couple. "Much better now, thanks." Satisfied with the answer, Bennett went back onto the bus and began to marshal the rest of the class off the bus. Jane jogged up to them.

"Daria, Quinn. That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

Quinn smiled somewhat. "Thanks Jane. That means a lot, coming from an artist."

Daria stared at the mall. "Yeah, that was fun and all. But the day is not yet done."

XXXX

Bennett's class stood in a large conference room, listening (or so it seemed) to one of the mall executives, who immediately called security to remove the vomit-covered Kevin and Brittany the moment they stepped inside.

The executive continued, "And of course, when you go to the mall, you look for what?"

Upchuck rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Bikinis! Make that lovely, luscious, ladies in bikinis!" He received many a scathing look from the female members of the class, including Quinn.

Jane spoke up. "I always look for security guards leading away someone in handcuffs. Shoplifters are the best judges of merchandise."

The executive frowned. "I meant more along the line of the qualities you look for? The stores? What should they be like?"

Quinn eyed a large mirror in the corner of the room. She cringed at it; mirrors resurrected bad memories of tears and a condescending Daria. But it did give her an idea for something to say. "Well, clothing stores shouldn't have distorted mirrors to make their customers feel insecure just so they can buy more products."

The head exec gave a shrug. So far, he had been ignoring the twins. However, Daria whispered into her sister's ear. "You got him squirming."

Quinn gave a small smile of satisfaction.

Jodie inquired, "Responding to your question, do you really think our demographic can really be addressed by middle-aged middle managers telling us what's fun to buy?"

The other executives were opening and closing their mouths in confusion. They had no idea what to say; usually kids just exclaimed, "I think the food court is awesome!"

The head executive hurriedly looked for a new student to talk to, targeting Jane again. "What about you? Do you come to the mall often?"

Jane rose an eyebrow. "Just to eat whatever roadkill happens to be served up in the food court." The executive's look came close to enraged glaring.

Daria rose her hand. When the executives ignored her, she shot, "I believe you owe my friend some money."

The head exec finally looked at her, with obvious irritation. "And why is that?"

"She did just contribute to market research, after all."

The head executive suddenly started to twitch. "Research?" he gulped.

"Now, Daria," reprimanded Bennett. "These busy executives have been nice enough to give their time to help educate us-"

"On the contrary, Mrs. Bennett," Daria interjected. "I think they're the ones learning from _us_." The class looked at her in bemusement. Daria said to Quinn, "Quinn, let's head over to that light switch over there." Quinn cocked her head in confusion, but complied, and the twins walked up to the switch and flipped it. When the room became dark, the entire class could see through the mirror, which revealed three people who had been hastily taking notes. Quickly, the head exec turned the lights back on.

He turned back to the angry-looking high-schoolers. "Uh, the focus group is, um, uh, a very important tool in mall, er, management. We-we thought that with this live demonstration..." he laughed nervously. _God damn two-headed freak._

Jodie frowned. "I feel used. I feel abused. I feel that this is not a fun mall after all and the media should be made aware of it." She rose her eyebrows in challenge at the executive.

He took some ticket-sized pieces of paper out of his suit pocket. "Would, uh, some coupons persuade you to change your mind?"

Jodie gave a sneer. "Does it look like I can be bought?"

The head executive motioned to his cronies, who procured coupons that they also had in their own pockets. "Okay, free coupons for everyone! Each one has a twenty-dollar value."

Daria scoffed at this. "You don't get it. There's a principle involved."

"Come on Daria," replied Quinn. "Free stuff. How can you say no to free stuff?" Daria sighed in defeat, and to the displeasure of the executive, each twin took a coupon.

"Victoria's Secret," moaned Daria. She would have given it to Upchuck, but he had disappeared.

"The Starving Musician," read Quinn. "Aw man, I was hoping for Mini-Cashman's."

Jane walked over, and showed them her coupon. "Scissor Wizard. Neat, I could use a new pair of those."

Bennett approached them with a clipboard. "Daria, Quinn, Jane. You'll observe traffic patterns at the food concessions." She handed them the clipboard and three pencils. "You better get going."

XXXX

"Traffic patterns. If I wanted to observe traffic, I'd just observe the adult video store parking lot downtown," Quinn moaned. She and Daria sat at a table across from Jane, who was chowing down on a hamburger.

"There's definitely a pattern," Daria observed. "Hungry people flock here."

With her mouth half-full, Jane added, "And then they depart, even closer to having diabetes."

"Assignment completed," Daria asserted.

"Awesome! Let's go look through the stores!" Quinn enthused. The twins let Jane finish her food, then the three stood up from their table and made their departure.

XXXX

In a corner of the food the court, the Fashion Club observed the twins.

"Eugh, it's the thing with two heads," gagged Sandi. She pushed her food away in disgust.

Stacy looked on after them. "I don't see any point into not accepting her, Sandi. The brunette seems really smart. She could be an assent...an assant...an-"

"Exactly. She's a brain. And that thing she's attached to is also a brain. TWO brains, Stacy. We can't afford to be seen with something like that. It would, like, totally ruin our image."

"But Sandi," Stacy swallowed. "Isn't rejecting her just because they're conjoined kinda...um...ur...what's the term?"

"Uhhhhhh, raciiiist?" Tiffany drawled.

Stacy looked confused. "Um, I think...Sandi, couldn't we just accept Quinn for a little while and see how it goes? Besides, we're in a mall. We could see what clothing stores she checks out."

Sandi lowered her head, angry she hadn't thought of that. "What an excellent idea, Stacy. Maybe you should follow them."

Stacy's eyes bugged out. _Oh no. If those two catch me spying on them...oh, I don't even want to think about that..._ "Can't Tiffany do it?"

Stacy shrugged. "Fine. Tiffany?" The girl looked at her president blankly. Sandi pointed in the direction Jane and the twins had gone. "Follow them."

XXXX

"Ooooh, this is really elegant," Quinn said in admiration at the matte-black dress she held in front of her.

Jane took another one just like it off the clothing rack, and draped it over her head. "I feel sexy already."

Quinn giggled, and Daria spotted a black jacket in the corner. "Hm. Reminds me of Highland."

The twins turned around another clothing rack, and collided head-on with another person. "Aagh!" "Ow!" "Drat!" The human obstacle with whom they had collided fell onto the floor.

Daria rubbed her pained head, and Quinn looked down at the person on the floor. It was boy, about her and Daria's age. He wore a black t-shirt and black leather pants, his black hair reached his shoulders and formed a curtain over his right eye. He even had black eyeliner on, which contrasted well with his somewhat pale skin.

Quinn offered her hand to him. "Oh, I'm so sorry." The boy took her hand and stood up. To Quinn's confusion, he looked her at in an odd way. Not the usual, 'Holy crap a two headed girl,' but more like, 'Is this real?' He was squinting at the twins hard.

After a few moments, he relaxed somewhat. "Sorry. I'm just a bit dazed, is all." He noticed the dress Quinn held. "Black. Good choice."

She smiled, glad that he had not run away in fear of her. "Anyone looks good in black."

The boy nodded in agreement. "You might want to be careful, though. Dresses from this place usually come undone after a few weeks."

Quinn looked at the dress in horror. "Yeesh. I was thinking of buying it."

Daria cocked her head. "How were you-"

"Yeah," the boy cut in. "The place is rather stingy when it comes to material. Might wanna go to Macy's."

"How do you know so much about fabrics?" Quinn inquired.

"I'm a designer-in-training. My grandfather taught me some things. It's a hobby of mine."

"Oh. You're not..." Quinn mumbled.

The boy gave an amused half-smile. "Gay? No. Lotta people think so. It just happens to be my forte."

Quinn extended her hand, partially out of apology. "Quinn Morgendorffer. I'm really into designing too."

He took her hand. "Name's Gage. Gage Thystun."

Daria frowned. "Is that supposed to be a kind of foreign name?"

Gage stared at the ground. "No idea. I was adopted."

Daria blanched. "Oh. So, your grandfather..."

"Yeah. My legal name is Gage Harris." Gage took his eyes off the ground and returned his attention to Quinn. He reached into his back pocket and brandished a business card. "This is my grandfather's card. He sells fabric at dirt-cheap prices. He lends me some of it too. Maybe you and I could collaborate on something sometime."

Quinn took it, regarding it with wonder somewhat. "Uh, um, thank you." With a trembling hand, she put the card into her pants pocket. "I guess I'll see you around sometime."

Gage nodded. "Probably. I'll see you around, Quinn. And you too,.."

"Daria."

"Daria. Well, goodbye." He walked out of the shop.

Quinn immediately took the card out again and beheld it with wonder. Jane spoke up. "This is so cute. You got asked out by some random emo dude."

Quinn frowned at her. "He didn't seem emo."

Daria rolled her eyes at the card, as though it meant nothing. "He gave you his grandfather's card. Doesn't get more romantic than that."

Quinn's eyes teared up. "Daria, stop it. No guy has ever liked me, ever, because I'm so...so...strange. And it's a guy who wants to work with me on clothing!"

Daria shifted uncomfortably. "Quinn, in the slim chance this guy does become your..._boyfriend_, don't forget. I'm always going to be around."

Quinn sighed. "I know. I know."

Daria breathed uneasily. _And I don't think she even noticed what was on his arms..._ Then she thought of something else. "Hey, you said you were going to buy that dress. With what money?"

From her back pocket, Quinn withdrew Upchuck's gold card. "He dropped it when he tried to open the bus window. I'll give it back later."

Daria gave her sister an impressed look. "I'd say what you did was wrong, but then again, it's Upchuck."

XXXX

After they left the clothing store, Jane spotted out Scissor Wizard. "Oh! I can use my coupon!"

The three walked inside, but to Jane's disappointment, she discovered that it was a hair salon. "Dammit."

The hairdresser walked out of her cubicle of an office. "You got here just in ti-woah!" She saw the twins. "I've never seen conjoined twins before. If you're here for a cut, I'm afraid I can't do two at a time."

Quinn blushed. "Uh, well, do you have orange hair dye?"

The hairdresser nodded. She went to a shelf and pulled off a bottle of dye. "This stuff will last a few months. Fifteen bucks."

Quinn flinched. "Woah, that's expensive."

"Sorry kid. I don't set the prices, I just sell the crap."

Jane asked, "Do you sell scissors?"

The hairdresser gave a, 'No, you moron,' look. "No. I cut hair."

Jane gave Quinn the coupon. "Dye it till even your brain goes orange."

XXXX

After another half-hour of drifting, Daria spotted "The Starving Musician." "Hey. Let's go in."

Quinn sighed, but knew she had to comply. Mutual benefit, and all that. "Okay, let's check it out."

They walked inside. It was quite expansive: there were multitudes of guitars, pianos, flutes, etc everywhere. Before the twins and Jane had any time to process this, they were greeted by a prolonged blast from a horn. Behind the front desk, a very bored-looking, freckled brunette held the horn, and said flatly, "Congratulations. You are our ten-thousandth customer. Help yourself to any free item in the store. Yes, you can pick anything. Hooray for you." She immediately sagged into her chair and slept.

Daria and Quinn looked at each other and shrugged. They headed over to the pianos. Daria and Quinn sat down at an electronic one. Jane came over and leaned on a nearby music stand. "Hey, I never asked. How did you two get into pianos anyways?"

Daria quickly tapped out the melody of "Enter Sandman." "Mom and Dad got us a flute, which of course we couldn't play. They thought by paying for piano lessons, we would grow a stronger bond as sisters." Daria pulled away from Quinn, as if trying to separate herself. "It doesn't get any stronger than this."

Quinn played 'Frere Jacques.' "We stopped when we moved to California. Daria got sick of it, and I was through hearing all the depressing stuff Daria bought."

Jane looked at the multitude of music-books surrounding them. "You could get something more cheery. Hell, you can get anything in the store." She patted the electronic keyboard. "Get this baby, and you'll never have to touch...what'da call it? Old Squeaky? Ever again."

Daria gave a shrug. "I'm not really into music anymore."

Jane sighed. "Too bad. Trent could probably use another band member. Hell, you two would be the first talent he'd have."

Daria and Quinn both asked, "Trent has a band?" Jane laughed.

"Yeah. Mystik Spiral. Otherwise known as Complete Auditory Assault."

Quinn shuddered. "No thanks. I'm not into performing. I only did the coffee-house thing because I was bribed."

But Daria was having second thoughts. _Well, Trent is kinda cool. And maybe I could put being in a band in a college application...hell, it's worth a shot._

"Ah, hell, Quinn. Let's get the damn thing. We'll be rid of Squeaky forever and we'll have a five-hundred buck keyboard instead of piece of paper."

Quinn gave a sigh. "All right, but don't expect me to play on this with you all the time."

The twins walked up to the counter girl. "We'll take the electronic piano."

Slowly, the girl awoke. She screamed, "ALEX!"

A young man with black hair and a rather large nose appeared from the back of the store. "For chrissake, Zara, what the hell do you-Oh! Customers!" His eyes widened. "So sorry."

XXXX

"What do you mean, you lost them?" roared Sandi into the phone.

"Iiiiiiii'm sorry, Sandiiii. But I saw these adorable shooooeeesss at Mini-Cashmansssssss..."

"Ugh! Tiffany, sometimes I wonder if you are even human or not." Sandi slammed the phone onto the receiver. _I don't care what Stacy says, I'm not admitting that freak into my club.  
_

XXXX

"Well, girls. We're really excited for you both. Right Jake? JAKE?"

"Woah!" he cried, almost dropping his paper. "Uh, yup! Sure are kids! I'm glad you two are showing an interest in music again!"

"An Interest in Music is actually really boring," Daria monotoned. "Give me a few bucks, and I can make it halfway decent." Quinn rolled her eyes.

XXXX

Quinn poked her drowsy sister's pillow. "Hey Daria?"

"Mm?"

"Do you think it could really work? Between me and Gage?"

Daria shrugged. _No Quinn, I don't. One guy can't date two girls at once, one of whom is completely uninterested in fashion._ She still didn't have the heart to tell Quinn what she had seen on Gage's arms. "Maybe, Quinn. We'll see."

Quinn smiled. "Thanks sis."

In the corner of their room, the new grand piano glistened with the moonlight.


	6. I am Legend Among the Fabrics

"And like a husband going home to his noble and self-sacrificing wife, the rat keeps returning to the food box. That is, the positive reinforcement. Huh, if only men could be more like rats. Oh, sure, they come home at first. You feed them, you wait on them, and then, after twenty-two thankless years, they just up and leave. No note, no phone call, no nothing! Just... like... that!" roared the ever-irritated science teacher, Ms. Barch.

Daria whispered to Quinn, "Poor man must have feared for his life." Her sister gave a smile at that remark.

Barch took a breath and regained her rarely-seen calm composure. "Now, before I divide the class into teams of two, who can give me another example of reinforcement?" Nobody said anything. "Fine, class. Ignore me... just like he did! Kevin?"

He sputtered. "Uh-"

"Shut up, Kevin," she quickly commanded. "Daria and Quinn? Reinforcement?" Barch had quickly become fond of the twins, as she thought of them as examplars for female spirit, which creeped Quinn out somewhat.

Daria thought for a brief moment, and then answered, "Hmm... to make a child stop crying, a mother might say, 'That's it! I'm sending you to El Paso to live with your real father.' Whenever the child gets upset, the mother might wave an airline ticket in her face, or maybe even frame it on the wall by the clown picture. The ticket stops the girl from crying, or showing any emotion... ever."

Barch gave a satisfied nod. She turned her attention to Daria's neighboring head, who looked like she was dreading being called upon. "Quinn?"

She nervously said, "Uh, well, I guess you could give a person a reward every time they do something nice?" she shrugged.

Barch wrinkled her nose. "That's the general idea. All right, everyone will be paired off into teams of two." She glanced at the twins. "You two will work by yourselves. I'm sure you both have a good team dynamic."

_You have no idea_, they thought. There was a wail from Brittany as Kevin was paired off with Jodie, whose head fell into her hands.

XXXX

"Thankfully, Barch had the good sense to leave us be," Daria explained to Jane at their cafeteria table.

"Can you imagine if we got paired up with Upchuck or something?" Quinn shivered.

"I am capable of imagining it. I'd just rather watch our house burn down," Daria deadpanned.

Jane took a bite out of her sandwich. "Either of you want any help setting up that maze?"

"Why? Because you think we can't do it ourselves?" A look of silent rage suddenly overcame Quinn's face.

Jane dropped her food and waved her hands back and forth hurriedly. "No, no. I meant-"

Quinn smiled. "Got you."

Jane jokingly gave her the evil eye. "You sneaky little bitch."

The twins chuckled.

XXXX

Daria opened the front door for Jane, who walked inside and took in as much of the living room as she could. "Cozy. Could use a few Rembrandts to spice the place up a little."

Helen appeared at the top of the staircase. "Oh! Hello Jane! What brings you here?"

"I'm helping Daria and Quinn out with a project."

"Oh! What on?"

Jane opened her mouth, but Daria beat her to it. "We're constructing a machine that will automatically punch people in the face when they get failing grades."

Helen crossed her arms. "Oh, I bet. Quinn, what is it really?"

"We're going to coax a mouse to move through a maze using either positive or negative reinforcement."

Helen gave an impressed nod. "I see. I assume that Jane's going to be your muscle?"

Jane turned to the twins. "Oh, is that why you let me in on this?" she gave a smile to indicate she was taking it good-naturedly.

"Exactly," Daria confirmed. "Me and Quinn will be doing all the intellectual stuff. Two brains are better than one."

Jane shrugged. "I'm cool with that. I used up all my brainpower in math class," she joked.

Helen smiled. "Well, work hard, you three," she said as she headed back up the stairs.

XXXX

Inside the garage, the three immediately began work, with Jane assembling the maze with the tools she had brought, Daria documenting all the steps the three were taking, and Quinn gingerly holding onto the box holding the mouse. She put the box down on the table where the maze was going to be placed and peeked inside it.

"Aw, he's so cuuuuute," Quinn purred.

Daria aimed inside the box and took a photograph with a small polaroid camera. The mouse immediately scrunched up into a ball in fear.

Quinn put her hand on her hip in disapproval. "You scared him."

"Then I think I just found our reinforcement," Daria declared. "We're going to need more film."

"Or a flashlight," suggested Jane, who taped up some of the maze's walls together in the corner of the garage.

Quinn shook her head, almost angrily. "No way! That's cruel. We're going to use positive reinforcement." She said the last sentence with such a firm voice that Jane knew there was no convincing her otherwise.

As for Daria, she took another photo and asked, "Anything I can do to convince you otherwise?" without looking up.

"Mm mm," went Quinn. "No way. We're going to be nice to it. He didn't do anything to us."

Daria put the camera down and grabbed a pencil to jot down notes. "Then tell me, Quinn. What kind of positive reinforcement do you suggest? And nothing having to do with food, that's too simple."

Quinn tapped her lips in thought. Then she came up with an idea. A pretty good one, in fact, she thought. "We could give it something soft and comfy to snuggle up in. Then after it's gotten comfy with it for say, about a minute, we take it away and put it on the other side of the maze. See if it finds it."

Daria's pencil froze on her paper. "Wow, Quinn. That's not half-bad."

Her sister smiled. "Thanks."

"Easy enough, get some toilet paper," Jane added, almost done with the maze.

Daria shook her head. "We have some pretty rough stuff. And this town doesn't sell anything softer. Also, chances are the mouse will chew through it."

Jane set down the tape and focused her full attention on the twins. "Well, either of you got any clothes you hate?"

"Lots," Quinn stated. "But we can't afford to get rid of them. They're tailored."

"We could always swing by an art store," Daria suggested.

"That won't work," Jane replied. "The shops around her sell only large squares at absurd prices. And none of it is soft."

The three sagged, out of ideas. Then Quinn excitedly snapped her fingers. "We could ask Gage."

Daria gave a defeated sigh. "Fine. We'll swing by his uncle's-"

"Grandfather's," corrected Quinn.

"Grandfather's place and pick up some material."

Quinn happily exclaimed, "Great!" and would have started bouncing if not for the fact that Daria would have had to bounce too. Daria frowned instead.

XXXX

It hadn't been a long walk. The address on the card was only a few blocks away, but it led to a wooden building that looked like termites would do it in any day. After knocking on the door and waiting a minute, a black man with graying hair answered. "Hello," he said pleasantly. "You here to buy some fabric?" he asked Daria and Quinn. Jane had stayed behind to finish the maze.

Daria replied, "Yes and no. We need something for a project, and apparently this guy named-"

"Gage?" finished the old man.

Quinn nodded. "Yeah. How do you know him?"

The old man gave an amused half-grin. "I'm his grandfather. Michael Harris."

Quinn swallowed. "Oh, I'm sorry, it's just that he didn't descr-"

"It's okay dear," he smiled. "Nobody ever makes the connection. Fine by me, I've always enjoyed the shock. Please, come in."

They walked inside. While the building looked rotten on the outside, on the inside the floor was polished beautifully, with well-adorned mannequins placed around in a large, empty room that looked like it had once been used for dance; the walls were covered with mirrors, making the place seem larger than it was.

"So, what is it you girls need?" Michael inquired.

Quinn's jaw was agape; she couldn't take her eyes off the mannequins. Daria shook her head in mild irritation. "We need something soft for a project, but my sister really wanted to talk to Gage," she explained.

Michael smiled even wider. "I'm happy to hear that. Gage rarely gets any visitors. I'll go get him." Michael walked down a hallway that was hidden by the mannequins and the mirrors. The implication of what he said struck Daria. _Gage lives in a half-rotten building?_

Gage suddenly appeared, wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and had black eyeliner on. Somehow, he looked even paler than when they had first met him. He walked up to the two, a small smile on his face. "Daria. Quinn. I hear you need some fabric?"

Quinn nodded, her face becoming slightly red. "Yeah, um, we need something nice and soft and comfy. For a mouse."

The eyebrow over his one visible eye rose an inch. "You have a pet mouse? Or is this some kind of extermination thing?"

Quinn shuffled her feet. "It's for a project. We need something that will make the mouse feel comfy and safe."

He shrugged. "I'm sure we have that in here somewhere...follow me, would you?" He walked off into the sea of mannequins. Daria and Quinn followed.

He walked up to a mirror, and gave it a push, which revealed a new hallway. He led the surprised twins down a dark, dank hallway with a large red wooden door at the end. He opened it, revealing a closet filled with large rolls of various materials. He picked one out and tore a strip. "Egyptian cotton. Makes great towels. Your mouse will feel like he's sleeping on a cloud."

Daria took it. "How much?"

"It's free. As long as your sister gives me an opinion on something."

Quinn's heart skipped a beat. "On what?"

He led them out. "I've been working on a dress for the past few weeks, and I'd like to get a female perspective on it."

Gage took them into another room that was behind another mirror. Inside was a well-lit studio with more mannequins and some photography equipment. In front of a few cameras was a full-body mannequin that had been adorned with a matte-black dress with elegant, pointed sleeves and a skirt that wasn't too constrictive, but at the same time wasn't extremely roomy. Quinn marveled at it. "You made that by yourself?"

Gage nodded. "I just wanted to know if it looks like something you'd like to wear."

Quinn couldn't stop staring at the dress. "It's beautiful. I'd definitely wear it. If I wasn't so large, that is."

He pressed his finger to his lips in thought. "Maybe someday I'll make one for you two, specially designed." His black eyes seemed to gleam. "It'd make for an interesting project."

"I'd like that a lot," Quinn said.

Gage gave a nod, then rubbed his temples. "I'd talk more, but I have this wicked headache," he said in an obviously pained voice. "Would you like to come back over the weekend to work on a dress?"

Quinn vigorously bobbed her head. "Sure, if it's okay with my sister."

Daria bit her lip. _Something is seriously wrong with this dude, and Quinn just doesn't see it. His pale skin, his choice of dress, where he lives, and his arms...but he doesn't seem disturbed. I'll give him a chance. One chance._ "It's fine by me."

XXXX

Jane sat down tiredly onto the sofa. _What's taking them so long?_ She turned on the TV. An art program came on. Jane leaned forward. "This ought to be good."

'Miss Smith, what do you have here?'  
'Well, Mr. Boleskin, it's a satire on modern life in the style of several renaissance artists.'  
'It's not finished yet, is it?' the man said with a snooty tone.

The door opened. Jane clicked off the T.V. Daria and Quinn walked inside, with Quinn bouncing like she wanted to reach the moon. "Did you get what we need?" asked Jane.

Daria nodded. She eyed Quinn. "That, and a few other things."

XXXX

"So, as you can see, upon imprinting on his new bed, the mouse will immediately begin to search for it," explained Daria. Quinn took the piece of fabric and placed it at the end of the maze. Immediately, the mouse darted through the maze to reach it.

"Excellent Daria! Quinn!" affirmed Ms. Barch. "You both get an A+!"

Quinn gave a wide smile, while Daria's face remained blank. But in her head she thought, _I told you things would get better, Quinn._


	7. Double Trouble

Helen could hear the banging of a piano coming from upstairs. Always eager to hear what her daughters were playing, especially now that they had the new piano, Helen crept up to the door of her daughters' bedroom, and could hear the melody of 'Helter Skelter.' An argument pervaded, however:

"Come on Daria, when are you going to write something?"

"When you've written another paragraph. Besides, I thought this would inspire you."

"I've been writing about Trekkies for the past twenty minutes."

"What?! We agreed to write about Charles Manson!"

"But that's all nasty, with murder and racism. Yuck. Star Trek is just plain goofy fun!"

Helen smiled. She gently pushed the door open, and her daughters turned around. Quinn held a pencil in her hand. The graphite tip had been worn down somewhat.

"We're busy mom," Daria said. She held up a piece of binder paper. "Essay for DeMartino."

"Like you're even doing anything," Quinn sniped. Daria rolled her eyes.

"Well girls," announced Helen eagerly. "I have good news for you. I got you both a babysitting job."

Daria and Quinns' eyes widened. "You didn't." "Mom!"

Helen smiled slyly. "You two are always asking us for extra cash. Well, I was on the phone with some clients, the Guptys. They have two children whom they're always calling little angels."

Quinn whispered to her sister, "In the movies, the angels always stab their babysitters the first chance they get."

"If only we were that lucky," Daria quipped.

Helen continued, oblivious of the exchange. "The Guptys told their children about you two, and they're both dying to meet you."

Quinn shook her head. "Mom. Kids. Responsibility. No way."

"And don't forget the fact that we each have only one functional arm," Daria reminded both of them. "If they get out of hand, I'm not looking forward to becoming a human pretzel in the ensuing confusion."

Helen reached into her pocket and brandished some bills. "I'll pay you both to go." The girls blankly stared at her. "It'd be a positive experience," Helen pleaded.

"No," the twins declared simultaneously.

Helen sighed, withdrawing the money. Then a smirk appeared on her face. "Well, that's okay then. Your father and I are hosting a couples' workshop for teens. I guess you two could come to that instead and help out..."

Daria and Quinn gave each other momentary glances and reached out their hands.

Helen backed away with the cash, smiling deviously. "Sorry. It was a onetime offer."

XXXX

"So Daria, Quinn, here's our rules," explained Mr. Gupty over the phone to the twins, with his wife holding another to her ear. "No boyfriends, no leaving the kids, no feeding them anything without calling us or their approval, and no using the stove. Any questions?"

"Can we bring over a friend if we need help?" asked Quinn. She checked with Daria, who mouthed 'Jane?' 'Who else?' Quinn answered.

"Is she responsible?" inquired Mrs. Gupty.

"Well, she's always telling us she's been pretty much taking care of her half-dead older brother," said Quinn.

Over at their house, Mr. Gupty gave a shrug to Mrs. Gupty. "Sounds fine to us."

"You said no boyfriends," reminded Daria. "Well, what if I just happen to pick up somebody on the way?"

They heard both Guptys swallow. "Uh..." went Mrs. Gupty.

"She's kidding, Mrs. Gupty," explained Quinn, smiling at her sister's humor. "My sister's a big kidder." She mouthed, 'Good one.'

'I take my bow.'

Mr. Gupty laughed. "Well, you'll need a sense of humor to tangle with our devils."

"Lester!" cried Mrs. Gupty indignantly.

Mr. Gupty continued, "No, seriously, they're great kids. See you Saturday, Daria, Quinn. Tad and Tricia are looking forward to meeting you both."

The twins set the kitchen phones down. "Well, there's no turning back now," moaned Quinn.

"Is turning sideways an option?"

Quinn rolled her eyes a few times. "Funny." She pulled her pencil out from behind her ear. "So, should we finish the paper? Get it out the way?"

"Do you have any good ideas?"

Quinn opened her mouth, then closed it.

Daria groaned. "One way or another, we're screwed."

XXXX

"If they start to drive you nuts, tell them you know this great game called 'cemetery.' They have to lie on the floor and pretend they're dead. The first one to move or make a sound loses," said Jane into the phone.

On the other end of the line, Daria held up the phone up to her ear. She and Quinn were sitting on the couch, with Daria writing more ideas for their essay. Quinn poked her sister. "What did Jane say?"

Daria cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. "She told me how to convince the kids that they're deceased."

"Oh. Cheery," Quinn remarked. She held out her hand. "Can I have it?" Daria handed her the phone. "Hey Jane. When can you get to the Gupty's?"

"I should be there by eight, seven-thirty if I hurry. Can you two survive without me?"

"Hope so. Daria's scary when she gets annoyed."

"Not as much as you."

"Well," said Jane, "I guess I'll see you two there. Try not to trip over yourselves running after these kids."

Quinn put down the phone. "You don't think that they'll be that bad, do you?"

Daria shrugged. "Who knows?" Her pencil-tip snapped off. "Dammit. Quinn, can you get me another?"

Quinn reached over to the small table on the side of the couch and grabbed another pencil. "Here."

"Thanks." Daria wrote down another sentence in cursive, then said, "If all else fails, we could just slip some painkillers into the milk. Worked with the Duffins."

Quinn's mind floated back to two years prior, recalling two little twin boys that eventually started jumping on the furniture and swinging forks like swords. She and Daria told them that their milk would make them super-strong. Their parents never called them again. "I don't feel good about doping kids, Daria. Can't we, like, call Gage or something? I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

Daria froze. _I have no intention of trusting that guy, especially to look after children. I can't believe Quinn still hasn't noticed what's up with him._ "Quinn, I'd really rather not share a responsibility over children with a guy whom we've spent only about ten minutes with, in total. Once we get to two-thousand, I'll consider it."

Quinn felt disappointed for a moment, then sighed in resignation. "All right. Well, me might as well get going then."

XXXX

The twins approached the door. Quinn asked, "Do you think that they'll still be weirded out over how we look, even though they know about us?"

Daria pressed the door-bell. "It is inevitable."

The door opened up. A smiling Mrs. Gupty appeared, and she beckoned the twins inside. "Hello Daria, Quinn. Please come in. Me and Lester are almost ready to go." Her face showed no sign of shock. Daria thought that she looked like some kind of a kewpie doll, with her oddly-shaped hair and style of dress.

The twins walked inside. The interior was rather plain, with some decoration in the form of figurines, which made Quinn shiver, which in turn made Daria shiver, which irritated Daria. The twins sat down on the couch and Mrs. Gupty walked out of the room.

Quinn looked around. "Those dolls are creepy. I feel like I'm being stared at." Quinn seemed to shrink back.

Daria looked to the right and saw a framed picture of the Gupty children, labeled Tad and Tricia. She picked it up and looked at the two children: the blonde-haired boy was wearing a formal dress-shirt. His sister, taller by half a foot, wore a formal dress, with a few bow-ties woven into her long hair. Daria was reminded of church-going children. And then she flashed back to when she and Quinn had their own baby-sitters:

_The toddler twins sat in a booster seat, groping for control of the single spoon provided by their caregiver. 'Give it to me!' They screamed to each other. The babysitter slammed her head into the table and wept._  
_  
Daria took Quinn's glasses from her. 'Ha!' she cried. Quinn took Daria's own glasses, and they started punching each other. The new babysitter tried to tell them that they could just put each others glasses on since they were twins, but she suddenly clutched her chest and wheezed, screaming, 'Oh! My heart!'_

_Daria and Quinn sat between their babysitter and her boyfriend, neither of whom looked particularly comfortable. A bandage sat on Quinn's nose, and her hair had been recently dyed. 'You know, she pads her bra,' Daria commented. Quinn didn't bother talking: She felt so ashamed over her appearance that talking was completely irrelevant._

"Here they are: the little monsters!" exclaimed Mr. Gupty. Daria started and hurriedly put down the picture and stood up to look at the children. They were wearing the exact same clothes as they had in the picture. _They probably have multiple sets of the exact same sets of clothing,_ Daria thought. _I wonder if they've watched Seinfeld._

Mrs. Gupty spoke up. "So girls, I'm really sorry that I forgot to say this before, but we can't let you use the phone. We use a pre-paid service, and we don't want any of our minutes to possibly go to waste."

_Crap, thought the twins. _Daria quickly came up with something: "I'm sorry Mrs. Gupty. I don't think that's a good idea. Not the pre-paid plan, but what if something happens to us? Our parents have been trained to deal with us medically in case of an emergency."

Mr. Gupty bit his lip. "Well, then maybe we should just stay home..."

Quinn stepped on Daria's foot as if to say, _Think of something better!_

Daria added, "And what if we needed to call 911? Like, for a gas leak or something? You never know when the place might go up."

The Guptys shrugged. "You're right Daria," said Mrs. Gupty. "Okay, you can use the phone, but for emergencies only."

Mr. Gupty handed Quinn a notepad. "So girls, that's your schedule. As you can see, we've broken everything down into fifteen minute increments. Let's review it together."

"Do you know a woman named Deena Decker, by any chance?" Daria asked. Decker was Helen's time manager who had occasionally talked to the girls on how to manage their own lives without disturbing the other.

Mr. and Mrs. Gupty both cried an excited, "Yes!"

Quinn mumbled as she read off the schedule: "Discuss current events, snack...post-snack flossing?" She squinted.

Daria said, "It's when you move a piece of wire back and forth between your teeth."

"Ha ha."

Mr. Gupty said, "The vocabulary word for tonight is "'indemnification.'"

"We left food for you in the fridge, added Mrs. Gupty. "Have fun kids!" The couple departed.

"Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!" called Tad and Tricia. They sat on the couch, while Daria and Quinn planted themselves in a chair on the other side of the room.

"Okay, you can drop the whole angel act now," Daria said. Quinn gave a horrified look like she wanted to say, _No way! Let them keep the act up! _

"What act?" asked a confused Tad.

"Is it time to floss yet?" inquired Tricia.

The twins exchanged looks.

XXXX

About twenty minutes had passed, and still they all sat awkwardly in silence.

"We're supposed to be discussing current events," Tricia eventually stated.

"Well," Quinn said. "It's supposed to rain tomorrow."

Tad cocked his head. "So, if you two are conjoined twins, why do you look different?"

Quinn almost answered, but she dropped her head. Daria gave the plain answer: "We got tired of nobody being able to tell us apart."

"So that's why Quinn's hair is bouncier than yours!" concluded Tricia. "I bet you put stuff in it!" Quinn nodded.

Tad asked, "So you have your own separate nervous systems, right?"

"No," said Daria. "Quinn is actually my second head, and thus we share the same nerves. She's under my control."

Tad laughed. "You're funny, Daria." Daria frowned, disappointed at his reaction. Apparently, these children were not so naive.

Tricia noticed that Quinn seemed upset, and tried, "Hey Quinn. Can I braid your hair?"

Quinn looked up. "Sure, I guess. Just nothing scary."

XXXX

A few minutes later, Quinn's hair had been braided into two pig-tails with ribbons. She whispered to Daria, "How bad does it look?"

"Downright criminal."

XXXX

Quinn tapped her foot nervously. The Gupty's were once again completely silent and her pig-tails made her feel silly. She had to do something, this silence was torturous. She reached over and grabbed a surprised Daria's wrist to look at her watch to make her upcoming lie more convincing: "Oh, look at that! It's time for dinner!"

Tad frowned. "You mean snacks, right?"

Quinn went, "Uhm, yeah. Snacks. Who wants some?"

Tricia looked up at the clock. "But it's not time for snacks yet."

"Yes it is."

"You're wrong," Tricia said.

Quinn felt her temper rising. "Well, I say it's time for snacks!"

The Guptys shrank. Daria whispered, "Careful. We don't want them to sue for psychological trauma."

Quinn bit her lip. "I'm-I'm sorry. Wanna watch some TV instead?"

The rather frightened-looking Tad said, "Uh, TV's bad for you."

Tricia nodded. "Yeah."

Daria shrugged. "It's not like our health can possibly be even more constricting at this point, anyways. Quinn, hand me the remote, will you? Thanks." The forecast channel appeared. Daria flipped through the channels, only to find the same thing over and over again. "Your parents put a parental lock on here, didn't they." _Fantastic._

The Guptys' moods suddenly changed. "Yay! The five-day report!" they exclaimed.

"That means the Midwestern Business Planner is next!" Tricia realized.

Tad smiled. "See, Tricia, I told you the barometric pressure was falling."

Quinn gave Daria a _Holy crap what the hell did we get ourselves into?_ look.

Then the kids started to complain about the TV commercials. Quinn and Daria both declared, "Snacks now!"

XXXX

Quinn reached into the fridge while Daria steadied them with the door-handle, and withdrew a tray with four bowls. They took it over to the dinner-table, where the Guptys were waiting for them.

Quinn removed the lid and let out a small scream. "Ack! Raisins!" She pushed the bowl over to Daria. "You take them."

The Guptys frowned. "But raisins are nature's candy! They're healthy for your colon," Tad informed.

Daria looked at the raisins with well-hidden distaste. "Then why do movie theaters coat them with chocolate in order to sell them? Obviously, they have no regard for your colons."

The Guptys said the following with disturbingly emotionless faces and voices, to the point of sounding like HAL, starting with Tad: "Movie theaters are bad."

"They are mass-zombifying machines specifically designed to put people in complete stupors in order to distract them from worthwhile pursuits."

"They're cleaned only when their incompetent managers deem them to be filthy enough for pigs."

"Abraham Lincoln was shot inside a theater."

While Daria's face remained stoic, Quinn was barely containing her unease. _Sheesh, they're worse than Daria._

XXXX

A little while later, Daria and Quinn sat in Tad and Tricia's bedroom and watched them as they held hands while bouncing on their bed and singing some kind of song about self-esteem. _I can't believe Mr. O'Neill never found that track,_ thought Daria. She took a breath and tried to drown out the excruciatingly cheery nature of the Guptys.

Quinn, meanwhile, wasn't fairing much better. _These kids almost make me feel better about myself. They don't even know how to have some decent fun!_ She noticed that the record that the Guptys were singing to was stuck. She said to Daria, "Let's take that thing out and throw it out the window."

"I'm not exactly skilled at throwing a discus." She stood up anyway with Quinn, and they removed the beaten, scratched up old record.

Quinn asked, "Why can't you just get the CD?"

The kids once again slipped into robot-mode: "Compact discs were forced upon consumers so that record-"

"Okay, okay! I get it, modern stuff is bad," interjected Quinn. Tad bowed his head. Tricia went up to Quinn and stomped on her foot.

"Ow!"

"You made my brother sad! You're mean!"

Quinn suddenly felt a burning anger inside her chest. "Listen to me, missy. If you do that again you and your brother don't get to..." she struggled to come up with a punishment, then she remembered the first thing she heard Tricia say to them. "Floss! No flossing. Your teeth will go bad. All right?"

Tricia's eyes widened. She retreated and assumed her brother's subservient pose.

Daria nodded her head in the direction of the door. The twins walked outside the bedroom. "Harsh, Quinn. Pretty harsh. Not that I'm complaining, but I doubt that their parents will ever hire us again."

Quinn mumbled, "You think I should apologize?"

"Maybe. I think we ought to call Jane and tell her to haul her sorry behind over here, so we don't have to put up with these monsters by ourselves." Before she picked up the hallway phone, she said, "By the way, you're talking that way again."

Quinn frowned. "What way?" She inhaled sharply. She was using her old voice. Her actual voice. Daria's voice.

"You haven't talked like that for-"

"It's not important." Quinn's voice returned to its high pitch. "Let's just call Jane."

Daria shrugged. She picked up the phone and dialed. _She's still upset over the past few years. Will she ever get over it? Probably not. Self-esteem issues, and all that garbage._

"Yo."

Daria pressed her phone to her ear. "When are you going to get here?"

"Huh?"

"It's looking pretty bad over on this end."

"Ouch. Okay, I'll be there ASAP."

"Please hurry. We need you."

"Yikes, must be some scary kids. Okay, I'm coming."

No sooner than she had hung up than Tad and Tricia suddenly rocketed out of their room, each taking Daria and Quinn's hand, respectively and pulled them down the stairs.

"Woah!" went Daria.

"Tad! Tricia! What are you doing?!" yelled Quinn.

They didn't say anything. They led Daria and Quinn downstairs into the basement, slammed the basement door shut, locked the door, and to the twins' amazement, pushed a deadbolt across the door.

The Guptys puffed. "Okay," breathed Tricia. "We should be safe."

Now Quinn completely lost it. "YOU LITTLE NUTJOBS! WHY DID YOU LOCK US DOWN HERE?!"

The Guptys backed up to the wall. Tricia stammered, "We, uh, er...um, we..." she burst into tears, and so did a frustrated Quinn.

Daria groaned. _Fantastic. Locked in a basement with two kids and Quinn. Can life possibly get any better?_

XXXX

A few minutes later, a silence once again pervaded the atmosphere. Quinn and Daria sat in one corner of the basement (which had turned out to be like some kind of bunker, with rations and gas masks, etc), with Tad and Tricia on the other side. For some reason, they were trembling in terror. _Not even Quinn's THAT scary._ "Tad, Tricia. Will you tell us now why you brought us down here and locked us in a basement?" Daria asked. "You're not planning to keep us down here as your slaves, are you?"

Tad shook his head. "We heard you asking someone on the phone to come quickly. The phone is for emergencies only."

Quinn slapped her forehead. "Oh, for the love of..."

Tricia spoke up. "So, why did you call? Is the house on fire? Is there a burglar?"

"No, Tricia," Daria said. "I was calling a friend of ours. We needed help to take care of you two."

Tricia sagged. "Oh." Then her face brightened. "Oh! We're not in danger then! We can get out!" She got up and tried to remove the deadbolt. "Uh...ur...it's stuck!"

The twins tried to remove it. Quinn and Daria strained against the deadbolt's weight, but couldn't move it. They sagged to the ground. "Fantastic!" cried Quinn. "Now we're going to die down here! And its all your fault, you little brats!" Tad and Tricia burst into tears. Taking a page from Butt-Head's book, Daria (to her own surprise) hit Quinn across the back of the head.

"Yow!"

Daria whispered, "Quinn, I'm pretty pissed off at these snots too. But I really rather wouldn't spend my last few hours listening to them cry."

Quinn's eyes widened. "You don't...I was just...will we really die down here?"

Daria rolled her eyes. Speaking so that the Guptys could hear too, she explained, "No, we aren't going to sufficate. Shelters like these are designed so that you can survive in them for years. So naturally, there's an air filtration system." She turned to the Guptys. "Right?"

They said nothing, and turned their backs to the twins.

XXXX  
**  
**  
"Where's Jane?" asked Quinn. "She said she'd be here, like, half an hour ago." Then a horrible thought came to her. _Oh crap, what will their parents do when they see us down here? They'll probably kill us. Or worse, sue Mom. _

Daria asked, "Hey, Tad, Tricia. Is there a phone in here? Or another way to get out?"

They didn't say anything. From where they sat, Quinn could see small drops of water falling from Tad's face to the floor. _Was I really that mean?_ Quinn looked at the Guptys, hard, and remembered all those times she and Daria were called names, yelled at for being different. She remembered those long hours, crying over lost hope, at being _trapped._ Quinn sucked in a sharp breath. _I have to fix this._

"Tad? Tricia?"

They still did not move.

"Look, I'm really sorry. I just got really frustrated and I didn't know what to do, and I got even more upset because I couldn't understand you. I'm really, really sorry."

For what seemed like another hour, the Guptys continued to huddle in silence. Eventually, they did turn around. Their eyes were red, and snot swung freely from their noses like pendulums.

"Nobody else has ever said sorry to us," whispered Tad. He wiped his nose.

"Yeah, all the other kids at school call us names and never say they're sorry. When we bump into them by accident and spill their milk by accident we say sorry!" Tricia pouted. "Why are they so mean?"

Daria opened her mouth, ready to make a snide comment, but decided against it. _Hell, it's Quinn's show. Let her run it._

Quinn continued, speaking in an honest, soft tone, "People don't like what they don't understand. Me and Daria know first hand. People can't explain why we are the way we are. So they demean us to mold us into the things they can understand: the defeated, the humiliated. It's just a sign that we're unique."

Tad pawed the floor nervously. "So others will keep calling us names because we're unique? That stinks. Then should we stop being weird?"

Now it was Daria's turn to give some advice. "Do you want to stop being you? Your choice."

Tad gave a somewhat unsure, "No." But he suddenly looked more confident after saying so. "Hey! I just made my own decision! That's cool!"

Tricia said, "Me too. I like being the way I am. No one else will tell me how to live." The Guptys walked over to this twins and sat with them.

"You know, Quinn," declared Tricia. "You're actually pretty cool." Quinn smiled.

"You too, Daria," said Tad. But he was looking at Quinn when he said this.

Daria thought, _Well, least I got a little appreciation._

XXXX

"Well, that was an eye-opener," said a smiling Mrs. Gupty as she and her husband approached their home. "Couple's Therapy Night was as eye-opening as ever. Don't you agree dear?"

Mr. Gupty nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. So naturally, he did not know the reason why Mrs. Gupty gasped before they pulled into the driveway.

"Oh my!"

"What is it dear?"

"There's a girl sleeping up against our door!"

Mr. Gupty pulled the car. Sure enough, a girl with a red jacket was resting up against the front door.

"Could she be one of those meth-heads?" proposed Mrs. Gupty. She opened the glove compartment in search of her husband's knuckle-duster.

Mr. Gupty squinted. "Don't think so. Her face looks pretty clean." He stepped out of the car.

"Careful Lester!" called Mrs. Gupty.

He walked up to the girl on the front porch. She was snoring softly. Mr. Gupty poked her foot with his boot. "Excuse me?"

The girl stirred.

"Excuse me?"

She awoke and looked at the one who had disturbed her slumber. "Oh, hello. Are you Mr. Gupty?"

"Yes. Who are you?"

She straightened her jacket. "Jane Lane. Daria called me and asked me to help out with your kids."

His eyes widened. "Oh! So you're the one with the half-dead brother."

Jane arched an eyebrow. "Uh, I guess that's about right. Well, anyways, I rang the door bell and nobody answered."

"What?!" Mr. Gupty frantically put his key in the door's lock and waved his wife over. "And you didn't think to call 911?"

"Didn't come to mind?"

"Of course not. You were too busy sleeping!" The door opened. The Guptys and Jane rushed inside.

"Daria!"

"Quinn!"

"Tad!"

"Tricia!"

"Where are they?"

"We're down here?"

Mrs. Gupty held up a hand for silence. "Shhhh. Did you hear that?"

"We're down in the basement?"

"I think its coming from downstairs!" They rushed to the basement and tried to open the door, which refused to budge.

"Tad! Tricia!" called Mrs. Gupty. "Are you in there?"

"We're in here! With Daria and Quinn!"

"Why did you put the deadbolt on the door?"

"Long story! How do we get out?"

Mr. Gupty yelled, "There should be a jack in the back! Daria and Quinn should be strong enough to use it to life the bolt!"

A minute later, an exhausted-looking Daria and Quinn emerged, along with a smiling Tad and Tricia, who were immediately scooped up by their smiling parents. Mr. and Mrs. Gupty started at the twins with a cold fury.

"Why were you in the basement with our children? Why was the deadbolt across the door?"

Daria and Quinn almost confessed, when Tad suddenly explained, "It's not their fault mom! We were playing hide and seek, we were hiding in the basement, and I accidentally threw down the deadbolt when I tried to escape. Daria and Quinn were really nice. They calmed down me and Tricia."

Tricia vigorously nodded. "Yeah! They're our favorite babysitters. Will you let them come back?"

Their parents seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment. Eventually, Mrs. Gupty said, "Um, well, sure they can! Of course!"

"Yay!" went the children.

Mr. and Mrs. Gupty eventually shook themselves out of their surprise. "Uh, so, Daria and Quinn, thank you for coming," said Mr. Gupty. "Dear..."

"Oh! Of course!" She withdrew several bills from her pocket and handed them to the twins. "There you go."

Daria counted them, then handed the money to Quinn. "Thanks. See you, well, whenever." They left with Jane.

Once they were a considerable distance from the Gupty household, Jane inquired, "So? What really happened? Did the kids try to convert you into their Luddite cult?"

Daria and Quinn's eyes seemed to bulge.

XXXX

Mr. DeMartino approached the twins with their graded paper. "Daria, Quinn. Your paper was quite ENGROSSING. It reminds me of all those MONTHS I had to spend in that INSTITUTION in..." he noticed his class was staring at him. "Ah, forget it. Good job, nonetheless."

After class, Jane peered at their paper. "'A Real Life Experiment in the Art of Rhetoric, in Pathos.'"

"Subtitle, 'Our Night at the Guptys.' Seemed fitting," Daria remarked.

XXXX

At night, if one strolled by the Gupty residence, they could hear the sound of two children singing, "I am gifted, so I have luck, and everyone else can go suck a, suck a, suck a-"

"TAD! TRICIA!" came two hysterical screams.


	8. I'm Not Having What She's Had

Jake sat in his chair, reading the newspaper's latest story on the case of a known animal rapist somehow escaping to the Antarctica. He drank coffee with cream, just the way he liked it. This was the time Jake could sit by himself and be at peace. _Sometimes, every once and a while, life ca be good,_ he thought as he took another sip.

Helen walked in the dining room and sat down next to Jake, holding an envelope in her hand. When he saw his wife's eyes widen as she read the envelope, Jake's mug froze as it traveled up to his lips. "Bad news, honey," Helen said. She passed him the envelope. "I'm going to require about four-thousand-eight-hundred dollars worth of gum work."

Jake's heart skipped a beat. "That's almost five grand! Dammit Helen! Why can't you find the time to brush your teeth?!"

"Jakey, you know I have to head to the office as soon as I possibly can-"

"Daddy?" The twins walked in. Quinn nervously stared at the floor while Daria stared at her own newspaper that she held. "I was wondering if I could have about fifty dollars for some new designing kits?"

"Fifty dollars?! We could feed ourselves for a week with that kind of money!"

Helen crossed her arms skeptically. "With what, dear? TV dinners?" But she thought to herself, _At least it wouldn't be cold lasagna. Again..._

Daria mumbled as she read an article, "Congress continues to spend two-hundred and fifty-billion a year on the military. Hm, how about that."

"TWO-HUNDRED AND FIFTY BILLION?!" Jake screamed. In his shock, he let go of his coffee mug, spilling its contents onto his lap. He jumped into the air. "YOW! OW OW OW! COFFEE ON MY BALLS! YAAAAAAAH!" He scurried over to the sink, pulled the nozzle out and aimed it at his crotch. It took a few moments for Jake to register steaming hot water trickling down his pants. "AAAAAAAH! SOMEONE CALL THE FIRE BRIGADE!"

Daria just stared in amusement as Helen rushed to his side. "And ask them what, dad? To set your pants on fire?"

Helen quickly stripped Jake of his pants, revealing his soaked 'Mr. Ed' themed underwear. Quinn giggled, Daria shielded her eyes, and Jake sank down against the cabinetry.

"Jakey?" Helen cooed. "Are you okay now?"

Jake uttered a moan, which suddenly turned into a scream. "Yow! My eyes! Helen, I'm blind!"

Helen peered at them. "Oh dear, Jake. You burst your blood vessels in both of them. _Again_."

Daria whispered to her twin, "You mind getting the camera?"

"Yes, I do, actually."

"Fine. Damn you."

Jake suddenly cried, "Oh god! It's another two hundred dollars per eye for the doctor to fix it! DAMMIT!" He slammed his head against the cabinet, which caused a plastic jar of peanut-butter-and-jelly to fall from the counter onto Jake's head. "YAGH!"

Helen winced. "Are you okay, honey?" She kissed his head. "Better?"

Jake gave her a puppy-like look that made Quinn go 'Awww' and Daria 'ugh.' "Yeah. Thanks dear."

Helen sat next to Jake. "Hey, do you remember about our plans to go on vacation and take some stress off you?"

"Hmmmm..." went Jake. Daria thought, _Aw, it's that cute little look a toddler makes when he's trying to make a poopie._ "Oh yeah! Camping!"

Helen smiled. "I'll take a long weekend off from work. Eric says I have to use up my vacation days before they're gone, anyways. Come on, dear. Let's go into the garage for the painkillers."

"And we hope you will have a fantastic vacation," Daria said monotonously. "Send us a postcard."

As she led Jake away, Helen said, "Nice try."

Quinn and Daria paled as they were led away. Quinn let out an upset groan. "Camping. In the woods. Don't she remember the last time we went camping?"

Daria took a moment to reminisce, then shuddered. "I seem to recall us being forced to wear matching hats. Demeaning."

XXXX

_Guano see some gutsy climbing? _

"No," Quinn answered as she turned off Jane's bedroom television. Jane and Daria both cried out in protest. Quinn rolled her eyes. "Do both of you really want to stare at a large mound of feces?"

Jane put her hands on her hips as a mock gesture. "Who wouldn't?"

"I'd much rather being staring at crap than not staring at crap. Hollywood script-writers do it every day," Daria added. As her friend and sister laughed, she noticed a suitcase on the corner of Jane's bed. "Don't tell me you're abandoning us in our time of need?"

Jane stuffed a shirt into it lazily. "Why? You going somewhere too?" She tossed in a pair of socks and a paintbrush.

Quinn shrugged. "We didn't mention it? Camping."

"Camping? In the woods?"

"Actually," Daria said, "We got a copy of Goldeneye and decided to piss off our dad by staying in his spawn-spot all day."

"Or you could just jump out from the hallway whenever he's in the bathroom."

"No sight will make a man crap quicker than the sight of his two-headed daughter," Daria mused.

"Even so, I envy you both," Jane sighed longingly. "I'd rather being wiping my behind with poison oak than be going to the Lane family reunion."

"Can't you opt out?" Quinn inquired.

Jane shook her head. "Can't. Trent and I are being sent by our parents as emissaries. We're kind of like the black sheep of the Lane clan. It was either this, or stay at home while _my _siblings come here to avoid the reunion."

Daria looked back at the T.V. "Well, ascending a gigantic mound of avian shat is always an option as well."

XXXX

Jake hummed to himself as the Morgendorffers drove to the campsite. "Master of the house, keeper of the zoo..."

"Careful dad. Some guy sang that so much he got himself committed," Daria warned. That shut up Jake immediately.

Quinn whispered, "Dr. Costanza would be proud."

"Probably not."

"We're here!" Jake announced, as he pulled up the car to a nearby clearing and a stream.

"Oh joy!" Daria said flatly. She re-buckled herself and Quinn. "Can we go back now?"

Helen shot her a look of warning. The Morgendorffers filed out of the car (the twins quite reluctantly so). "Isn't this great!" Jake cried out. "We're going to live like the peoples of old for the next few days! We'll drink from the stream, eat the berries given to us by mother nature!"

"And we can stare at the rotting corpse over there," Daria added. Her family searched for such a corpse, and Quinn craned her neck to see around Daria's head. "Aha! Made you look."

Helen rolled her eyes, then stood in front of her daughters. "Okay, you two. I'm just going to show you..." she unzipped her backpack and showed them a satellite phone. "This will be in my backpack if either of you need it. All right?"

Daria and Quinn folded their arms. "Don't you think we're capable of handling ourselves, mom?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah. You ought to have more faith in me. It's Quinn you should look out for," Daria joked.

Shrugging, Helen put the phone back. "And no using it for anything else," she said, wagging her index finger. "No friends, no guys, and no pizza deliveries."

"Dammit," Daria cursed. "I was hoping to have my hot guy-friend bring by a nice pepperoni pizza."

Helen's eyes widened. "What hot guy-friend?!"

"My french one."

"Huh?!" Helen exclaimed with wide eyes.

"She's pulling your leg, mom," Quinn explained.

"Oh." Helen's shoulder's sagged in relief.

"She meant _my_ hot guy-friend."

"WHAT?!"

Daria and Quinn both shared a good chuckle.

XXXX

A few hours later, they were all hiking up a trail. Quinn and Daria each held a walking stick and were closely watching the ground to prevent themselves from tripping. Helen frowned. "Come on, girls. Try to enjoy the scenery!"

Quinn gave a glance. "Trees. A lot of them. Exciting."

"Perfect stomping grounds for the lumber companies," Daria chimed in. Quinn tripped over a rock, but Daria caught themselves from falling with her stick. Quinn breathed a sigh of relief, and they continued on.

The last comment had Jake's mind fuming. "Damn capitalist environment-ruining pigs!"

Helen smiled at her husband''s ranting. "Remind you of the old days, huh dear?"

"Yeah!" He grinned. "Gosh, it seems like it only happened last week."

Daria mumbled, "They're reminiscing. We must return to base camp for immediate extraction."

"Good idea," Quinn said, not really being sincere. "We need an excuse."

"Yes. Hey, mom!" Daria called. "Quinn and I have to go urinate." Quinn's face flushed.

Jake and Helen both made 'yuck!' faces. "Well, we're not that far from the tent. You two go on back. And see if you can find some firewood while your father and I are gone."

The twins nodded and headed back. "Couldn't you have said something else?" moaned Quinn.

"Urination is the most common and effective excuse in the history of excuses. Works for dad."

XXXX

A little while later, the twins had found some firewood about a quarter mile from the camp and started heading back.

"Hey, I've been thinking about something for a while now..." Quinn said.

"Now there's a shock."

"Ha ha. No, seriously, what are we going to do when we go to college, when we get jobs?"

They stopped. Daria said, "Good question. Perhaps we should take courses both of us hate equally."

They looked at each other. "Nah."

"Maybe we could write fashion books," Quinn suggested.

Daria went, 'Meh.' "It's an idea. Or we could do fashion satire. You provide the details, and I write."

"But what will we major in?"

For a while, they stood there and gave it some thought. Eventually, Daria shrugged and said, "We'll have to wait and see."

They returned to the campsite to find Jake ranting on about their grandfather, Millhouse "Mad Dog" Morgendorffer. Jake noticed them and quickly ceased. "Oh, uh, hi girls! Did ya get us some firewood?"

"Sorry, dad. Finder's keepers," Daria said.

"Aw, come on kiddo!" Jake whined. "I want to be warm."

"She's kidding, Jake."

"Or am I?" Daria suggested, with an upraised eyebrow.

"Yeah, you are," Quinn added.

"My neighbor be damned, for she hath thrown me out to be devoured," Daria quipped.

Finally deciding for himself that it was all a joke, Jake eagerly rubbed his hands together. "Boy, I can't wait to tell scary stories!"

"Quinn and I have PMS. That scary enough?"

She got blank stares. Quinn whispered, "You should have quit while you were ahead."

XXXX

"Then, lying there in the darkness, the boy heard a tiny splashing sound. Psh! Psh! Like waves on a faraway shore. Except... the nearest ocean was a hundred miles away. The boy reached out for his sleeping father... but he was gone. Shaking with fear, the boy stumbled out of the rickety lean-to, and that's when he saw it: his father, sitting alone at the campfire. Alone... with a whole case of beer! Psh! Psh!" Jake clenched his fists furiously. "The selfish old bastard was wasted again."

_And then he looked down, and saw the real cause of this disturbance,_ Daria thought.

Helen stuttered, "Uh, that, uh, was really, er, scary honey." She cracked her knuckles like she was about to lift a heavy object, and began to tell her own story. "Many years ago, in a manor in southern Siberia, a very young and pretty farm-girl had lost her way in the dark forest. Eventually, she found a massive castle in the woods, surrounded by dead trees and melting snow. She knocked on the door, and a tall, handsome man with a pale complexion answered the door. He let her come in and served her dinner. When she asked him why he lived all alone, he said, 'I once lived with my family. And now, they are all gone.' 'Why?' she asked. He gave no answer, he just continued to eat. Then, she saw that behind her host was a massive mirror that reflected his entire banquet hall. Almost entirely. Her host was not in the reflection at all. 'You're a vampire?' she whispered to the pale stranger with the brooding eyes, who had risen from his chair and slowly advanced toward her.. She felt her bosom blush and heave with excitement. 'You've come to take my blood!' 'Your blood?' he laughed. 'Oh, there's time enough to take your blood. Tonight I'm going to take your...'" Helen stopped at the sight of Jake hurriedly waving his hands. Helen saw Daria and Quinn, both of whom had upraised eyebrows.

"Did the next word happen to start with a 'v,' mother?" Daria hinted.

Quinn shriveled. "Eeeeewww!"

Helen blushed in embarrassment. She looked at her red-headed daughter. "Uh, your turn, Quinn."

Quinn shook her head. "I can't tell scary stories. At least, not the one's you guys might like. Daria, your turn."

Daria coughed to clear her throat, and began...

XXXX

"Despite that the United Nations had seized his lab and issued a worldwide 'Search and Destroy' order on him, it's rumored that he's still hiding out there, continuing his experiments on anyone he just happens to find." She relished in the terrified and disgusted expressions of her family. "He even comes around campgrounds on occasion, looking for his new test subjects. And usually, he forces them to eat cute little animals. ALIVE!"

Jake once again felt a warm sensation rapidly spreading around his crotch. "YAGH! Not again!"

XXXX

The next morning, after a sound sleep (at least for Daria; Quinn couldn't stop thinking about the doctor described in Daria's story) Helen peeked inside the tent.

"Daria, Quinn, get up. I need you. Your father's in a sickening mood," she explained.

"Are they decent, Helen?" Jake called.

"Yes, Jake." Her head withdrew from the tent and Jake appeared, holding a branch covered in berries.

"Up and at 'em, ladies! Time to join the forest morning, already in progress. Breakfast is on Mother Nature. Yum! Meet you around the fire in five minutes!"

Helen reappeared. "Please, girls. I'm afraid I may hurt him."

The twins sighed, and eventually sleepily made their way out of the tent and took some berries. Quinn popped a few in her mouth. Daria stared at the ones in her hand, and slowly, begrudgingly brought them up to her mouth.

XXXX

A little while later, the whole family was hiking up a smooth trail. "God, isn't all of this great, girls?" Jake expressed, stretching his arms out to the trees as though he were Moses. "I'm in the great outdoors, I don't need to worry about work, and I'm here with all of you."

"Oh, Jakey," Helen said. "We're happy to be with you too."

"Yeah, Dad," smiled Quinn, who poked Daria to get her to say something.

"Uh. Yes."

"Oh..." Helen moaned. She sat down on a nearby tree stump. "I have this wicked headache, all of a sudden."

Jake knelt next to Helen and pressed his palm to her forehead. "Hmmm...you don't have a fever, honey..."

When he took his hand away, he saw that Helen's pupils had suddenly become dilated. "Helen?"

In a really low voice, she said, "Honey? Where's the honey, Rabbit? I haven't found any honey in the past few days. Oh, I'm so hungry."

"Mom?!"

"Mom?"

"Helen!"

"Oh, I'd better get back home before Owl yells at me for stealing his condoms," she said. To their horror, Helen began walking in the opposite direction.

"Wait!" called Jake. "You can't go that way! We need you for our Virgin Airlines sacrifice to the God Brrreci Magehto! He needs to feast upon your organs!" He ran after her.

"Daria, what's happening?" Quinn whispered in terror.

Daria made a 'huh, how about that' face. "It appears that they have gone completely insane. I knew that it was only a matter of time."

"Time," Quinn said. Her voice had suddenly become detached.

"Quinn?" Daria asked with trepidation.

_This thing all things devours:_  
_Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;_  
_Gnaws iron, bites steel;_  
_Grinds hard stones to meal;_  
_Slays king, ruins town,_  
_And beats high mountain down, _Quinn recited.  
_  
She's quoting The Hobbit. She's never even read it._ "Quinn?"

Quinn suddenly began to make jerking motions, as though she wanted to run away. "Dammit, let go of me!"  
_  
Oh, crap. That's bad._ "Quinn!"

She turned. "Let go of me, damn you! Why can't you just let me go!"

Daria tried to move back in the direction of the camp, but Quinn wasn't moving. _Well, this isn't good._

_XXXX_

_I am Quinn. She is Daria. Her body is mine, and mine hers. We have shared nothing, yet we have lost everything. Lawndale, La Cueva, Highland, Lawndale reborn; they appear in front of my eyes in the land of Morpheus. And everything is one. The one with the scars. The weak one. The smart one. The rebellious one. The supportive one. We are same and unalike. I am a freak, I am not unique. I am unique. I am Daria. We share a face. I turned like a coward. I am who I am. Our hearts beat in an everlasting tandem._  
_I ran from who I was, who am I? I am Quinn. I am Daria. _  
_We are one._

Daria tried to plant her foot firmly in the ground, but it was proving difficult: Quinn was determined to rip herself away from Daria and run off. _Okay, Daria. Think. What to do. Phone in backpack YAGH!_ Daria's mental processes were halted as Quinn suddenly hurled herself to the ground. Lying on the dirt path, Daria felt dust climbing into her boot and small rocks cutting into her leg as she stared up at the sky, while Quinn continued to quote esteemed literature that she (but Daria had) read. "Ow...Quinn, would you shut up for one damn minute, please?"

"Whenever you feel like criticizing any one, just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had," Quinn said flatly.

"Great advice, Mr. Carraway. You mind getting up now?"

"The device can only be re-started by reversing the polarity of the neutron flow."

"Great lesson Quinn. Now be quiet." Daria tried to push herself off the ground, which was proving to be a challenge as Quinn had decided to stop moving, and had moved on to Shakespeare. _Whatever was in those berries could have given the Rolling Stones a run for their money._ Daria swallowed. _And I gave all of mine to Quinn. If something happens to her...come on, Daria. The phone. Get to the goddamn phone._ Daria lifted her leg and dragged it across the ground. She pulled against the hard dirt with all her might. And she moved a mere inch. _It's another half a mile back to the tent._ Daria turned her head to Quinn, but her hair had formed a wall in front of her face. Upon brushing it away, she gasped. Quinn was staring directly at her, and her pupils seemed to be fading in color.

"Quinn?"

"Yes?"

"Um, would you mind standing up now?"

"Okay."

The twins stood up together. Daria quickly brushed off some dirt and rocks that had stuck to them both. "Quinn, are you feeling better now?"

She smiled. "Aw, Gage. That's so sweet of you, you're worried about me."

_You have got to be kidding me._ "Uh, thanks. Let's get to that backpack now."

"Sure!"

They started on back, and Quinn wouldn't stop staring at Daria with a googly-eyed face. She tried to ignore it and stared straight ahead. She tried to quicken her pace, but Quinn seemed content on their current velocity, so there wasn't much Daria could do.

"Gage?"

"I'm not Gage, Quinn."

"I'm really glad I met you."

"That's nice."

Quinn stared at the ground and twiddled her fingers in her one hand. "I know it sounds really cheesy and stupid, but you make me feel really...hopeful."  
_  
I don't think she's going to shut up._ "Save it for when you actually get to talk to him, Quinn. I'm sure he'll be elated to hear it."

"You give me hope that more people won't freak out the moment they see me. You didn't, when we first met."

There were some whooping noises behind them. _Hopefully Mom and Dad won't jump off any cliffs before I call the medics. Goddammit, that's not even funny. Hell, none of this is._ Daria panted from excitement and panic. The camp was getting closer. "We're almost there, Quinn. We'll make it."

Quinn's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah, I just said we'd ACK!" Before she could react Quinn gave Daria a quick kiss on the lips. Daria spat onto the ground and wiped her mouth. "Ugh."

Quinn kept on smiling dreamily. "You're so sweet, Gage."

They had reached the backpack. "Stop here, Quinn. Crouch please."

"Okay."

Daria hurriedly rummaged around in the backpack and found the satellite phone. She dialed 911.

"Dispatcher," said a rough female voice.

"Hello. I need some medics."

"What's the problem, ma'am?"

"My family's experiencing hallucinations. They ate these red berries-"

"Sorry, ma'am. I have to interrupt. Red berries?"

"Yes."

"Are you at the campgrounds?"

"Yeah. Has this happened before?"

"Yes ma'am. Last case was five years ago, right before they legally shut down the campsite and made it a natural reservation."  
_  
Ah, crap. Dad, if you make it out of this...WHEN you make it out of this, I'm never going to let you live this down._ "We didn't see any signs-"

"That's all right, ma'am. There's this idiot ranger down at the Park Office, name starts with a T, I can't remember, he's supposed to warn people off. He never gets the job done. You won't be charged."

"Good to know. I'll keep that in mind when my family's in their caskets."

"That is not funny, ma'am. They will make it. A helicopter is heading your way, now. Where are you, exactly?"

"In the clearing with my sister. My parents wandered off."

"I'll send a squad car to find them."

"All right, we'll wait."

"I have another call waiting, ma'am. I have to hang up now."

"Hold on."

"Yes ma'am?"

"Just to let your people know, my sister and I are conjoined twins. I don't want them to stop and take pictures while my parents are swinging on vines."

"I'll tell them, ma'am. You'll get through this."

"If you say so."

"What are you doing?" came a new voice. One that sounded suspiciously familiar. Daria turned her head to see that she was staring at herself. An angry version of herself. When she noticed that the chin was a little smaller, Daria realized that she was still looking at Quinn. But it was Quinn unaltered: brown hair, bespectacled, using her natural voice.

"You're letting the brat get in your way," it said.

_What the hell? I didn't eat any berries. How can I...the kiss. Quinn must have had some of the stuff on her teeth. But I spat it back out...no, no, no, this shouldn't be happening.  
_

"Quinn is interfering with your ambition, your aspirations."

Daria grit her teeth. _It's not real. It's not real._ She tried to focus.

"You don't have to do what she wants. Forget that Darwinistic emo fool. Burn the fabrics. You should be the dominant one. It's all her fault."

"Would you please shut up. It's bad enough I'm talking back to a hallucination."

"She is irrelevant! Inferior! She's weighed down by her ego and self image!"

Daria felt like she wanted to scream at the illusion, tell it to shut up, that it was wrong about Quinn. _Oh god, is that who I really am? _she thought about her mirror image_. No, it's not, because I wouldn't do _this_ to myself._

Daria swung her fist into her doppelganger's face. She watched as her own head snapped back, and when it lurched forward again, it was Quinn's own face.

_I wonder if I really did punch myself,_ Daria thought as her vision became cloudy, _Because now I feel faint..._

XXXX

Quinn moaned. She had a splitting headache, and the bright lights and white walls didn't exactly help to calm it. Her throat felt dry and she had a desperate hunger. Her right cheek also felt sore. Looking to her left, she saw an IV going into her arm.

"Ah. She hath arisen from thy slumber."

Quinn saw that Daria was similarly hooked up. She was holding a _Globe_ magazine in her hand. "I'll give them credit," Daria said, flicking the surface of the magazine page with her forefinger. "These people really know how to weave lies."

"Daria? What happened?"

"The less said, the better."

"Where's Mom and Dad?"

"I don't know."

"What?" Quinn felt her heart beat furiously. She looked for something to call the nurse with.

"Don't fret," Daria said. She held up a beeper and pressed it. Within moments, a solemn-faced nurse walked in.

"Can we see our parents?" Quinn inquired with a worried tone.

The nurse nodded. "They'll be out in a moment. I'll take you two outside." She walked behind the twins' bed and pushed them out into the hallway.

Quinn gave Daria a poke. "Where do you think they'll be?"

"Logically, they'll be in the room next to us."

"You'd be right," confirmed the nurse. She wheeled them up in front of the door to the neighboring room.

The door opened. Two weary-looking doctors pushed out two gurneys. On each was a body covered in a sheet.

Daria's jaw dropped. Quinn felt herself shut down. Both could only think, _No._

"There they are!" the nurse exclaimed, pointing down the hall. Tearing their eyes away from the bodies, Daria and Quinn saw their parents being wheeled toward them, each asleep in a wheelchair. Daria sighed in relief, while Quinn burst into joyed tears.


	9. Gage

"Pops! Where'd you put my medication?" Gage called from the kitchen inside _Harris Studios._ He furiously searched around the cabinetry, which only made his headache worse. _Dammit, where the hell is it? I know I put it somewhere on the counter..._

"I didn't see it, Gage!" came the shouted reply from the other side of the studio. "Where's your extra capsule?"

_Yeah, where is my extra? Didn't I...use it all up. Great._

"Looking for this?" came a droning voice from behind Gage. He whirled around and gave a brief yell of fright, then a laugh of relief.

"Hey Ethan. Didn't hear you come in."

His friend smiled. As always, Ethan Dressler wore a black business suit with a blood-red tie, something for which the Fielding Prepatory Academy had always been irritated at (but when your father happens to be a successful doctor and a donator of various medical journals, what can you do?). He was rubbing the back of his neck furiously. Raising the capsule for Gage to see, he said, "It was under the couch." Ethan tossed it to his friend. "Where's your spare?"

Gage pocketed the pills after swallowing one. "Used 'em all. Want a drink? I got some Ultra Cola."

Ethan held up his hand politely. "No thanks. I don't need it."

Gage started back to his room and beckoned for his friend to follow. "Want to come up? We haven't seen each other for a while, we need to catch up."

Ethan gave a shrug."Why not?"

They headed upstairs, carefully avoiding the crusty and rotting spots of woodwork that looked like it would cave. "So," asked Gage. "How've you been?"

Ethan coughed . "Everything's been boring since I got to California. Although I've been met some interesting people during my...vacation, if that's what you want to call it. How about you? How's everything been?"

Gage sighed, a little rue underlying his tone as he spoke. "Well, homeschooling isn't exactly spectacular, but what can you do?" He opened his bedroom door, and Ethan immediately slumped onto Gage's couch. The walls were plastered with squares of fabric of various colors and shapes, as well as some Depeche Mode posters. Gage continued, "Well, I met a girl. Two, actually." There was an edge of triumph in his voice.

Ethan leaned forward, his yellow eyes yearning hungrily for more information. "I'm sure there are plenty of females around here. What makes these two interesting?"

Gage sat down on his bed. Before he could answer the question, he yelped as he suddenly felt a stinging pain beneath him. "Yow!" He probed around his rear and procured a pin. It was gold, and had an engraving of a snake on it; specifically, it was a large asp. "Oh. This thing." He tossed it to Ethan.

Ethan held the pin with a certain reverence. "Ah. I almost forgot about them." He stared for a while at the engraved Latin at the bottom: 'Periculosum Valde'. _Very Dangerous._ "Boring club."

Gage crossed his arms and grinned at his friend's obvious attempt to play coy with his affections. "Yeah right, boring. Remember what Michelle and I did to Sue?"

Ethan set the pin down on a nightstand and took a moment to reminisce. "Hard to forget. Wehrung wouldn't stop pestering me to monitor the whole scene from the balcony." He gave an extremely rare, toothy grin. "But I will have to admit, Smith's plan was ingenious. Didn't they have to quarantine Bentley for a week for rabies?"

Gage counted on his fingers. "Rabies, the clap, hepatitis A, B, C, and the bubonic plague."

Ethan chuckled softly. "Having no empathy for all of humanity is wicked."

"For you, maybe."

"True. So, you were talking about some unique female specimens?"

"Oh! Right! You're not going to believe this. I met some conjoined twins."

Ethan's face was stoic. "And?"

Rolling his eyes, Gage thought, _What were you thinking? He's never impressed._ "One of them's interested in fashion."

"Aren't all girls?"

"No, I mean designing."

"And you like this girl?"

Gage's face turned slightly red. "Well...maybe."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "And you're sure she doesn't think you're-"

"I'm sure, Ethan."

Ethan looked his friend up and down. "Does she know how..." for once he struggled to find the right words. "How...hard you've had it?"

A sad, anxious look appeared on Gage's face. He flopped onto his bed and unhappily stared at the ceiling in his helplessness. "I think her sister knows, but didn't tell Quinn, that's her name by the way. How can I? She'll probably never come near me again."

"Then she's a fool and not worth your time."

Gage rubbed his forehead. "Come on, dude. I've never had a girl like me before."

"That's because you're repulsive."

"Ha ha."

Giving an irritated sigh, Ethan walked over to his friend and leaned over his face, something he used to do to make Gage laugh. It wasn't working. Trying out a new tactic, Ethan offered some advice: "Tell her. Sooner than later. Let her mull it over a little. If she comes back to you, you've caught one, and damn the other head. If not, spit in her face."

Gage turned to face his friend and grinned. "You're a pluperfect jerk, man."

There was a knock at the door. Gage's grandfather walked in and said, "Dinner's almost ready. Your favorite. 'Boring-as-hell soup.'"

Gage, contemplating his future with a potential girlfriend, continued to smile and said, "I'm coming, Pops. Hold your horses."

"You better hurry up then, before I eat it all."

Gage quickly bounced off his bed and ran out of the empty room.

-Curious about the group Ethan and Gage belonged to? I gave them their own spin-off series that crosses over with Roentgen's excellent series, 'The Hallowed Halls of Fielding' on the Paperpusher's Message Board. Unfortunately, I won't be able to post it here, because it's pretty much fan-fiction of fan-fiction. However, I may add them to another website soon, so stay tuned.


	10. Les Poussins de Misère

Jane clutched her sides as she fell off her bed laughing. The twins gave her irritated stares from the chair across from the bed, and crossed their arms together, unimpressed with this display of human expression. "Jane," Daria said. "In case you do actually die of laughter, can we have your TV?"

Jane squeezed her stomach with her arms and continued laughing. "Berries, berries, oh god, that's just too great." She took deep, steady breaths. After a few moments, she rose off her bedroom floor and sat back on her bed. "You know, I haven't laughed that hard since Trent came home from that rave in September. He was-"

"Hey Janey," interrupted the subject of what was probably going to be an interesting tale. He stood in the doorway, holding a bowl of fruit. "Oh, hey Daria. Quinn. I didn't hear you come in."

The twins twisted their necks to see him. "Were you asleep Trent?" Quinn inquired. "That may be why."

"I uh...huh, I can't remember. Maybe." He strode up to the twins and lowered the bowl so that they could view its contents. "Cherries?" he offered. The twins both winced, and Jane started laughing again. Trent's eyes widened at the sight of his sister gasping for air. "Huh. She's not usually like this. Not since I went to the rave..."

Quinn cocked her head in curiosity. "What happened?"

Trent thought back. "Last I remember, I was in the shower. I thought I still had my clothes on, but it turns out it was just paint." He made a 'huh' expression.

Daria felt the temperature in her cheeks rise a few degrees.

When she had again regained her composure, Jane sat back up and continued. "It took you hours to figure out you were walking around the house naked. But mom didn't seem to mind."

"Mom's cool like that. Except when you leave your guitar over the toilet seat. Then she gets really mad." He extended the bowl to the twins again. "Cherries?"

Quinn held up her hand in front of it. "We'll pass. Daria and I have decided to go on a straight diet of meat for a while."

"Those cows aren't going to kill themselves, you know," Daria added. Trent shrugged and left the room. Daria watched him as he walked off, and turned her head back to a curious-looking Jane and a sister who could instantly tell what was going on. "What?" she asked.

Jane opened her mouth, but just said, "Nothing. Nothing at all." She gave a Quinn a quick, knowing glance, and then asked, "Did either of you get your school photos yet? Just got mine. Want to help me burn them later?"

Quinn's eyes widened. "Oh no. The photos. Mom and Dad are going to have a cow."

Jane gave a curious stare. "Why?"

Daria explained. "Mom, who still blames herself for our being fused, and thus our apparent unhappiness, has been urging us to smile for school photos, in order to reassure herself that we are not on the verge of suicide. Of course, she never openly admits that."

"And you forgot?"

"Quinn might have. I never smile, unless I have a reason. Or if I want to frighten people."

Jane grinned eagerly as she jumped off her bed and retrieved a camera and aimed it at Daria's face. "Come on, Daria. Smile for the camera."

Daria continued to stare blankly at Jane, who sighed in disappointment, and moaned sarcastically, "Fine, I guess I'll never truly get to know one of my best AAAAAH!" No sooner than she had lowered her camera that Daria suddenly gave a toothy grin that stretched from one side of her face to the other. Jane jumped back onto her bed and dropped the camera. "Christ!"

Daria's expression returned to normal. "When we went to La Cueva, I got us expelled by doing that all the time."

"She almost overdid it," Quinn said. "Our self-esteem teacher threatened to send us to a sanitarium downtown."

"Huh," Jane said. She picked up the camera and set it down next to herself. "No kidding?"

"Nope."

"You know, a sanitarium would probably be a step up from Lawndale."

A hint of a grin appeared on Daria's face. Jane chuckled. "Now, with _that _on your face, I could live with."

XXXX

Kevin Thompson enthused to Michael MacKenzie, "This is it, Mack Daddy! The week of weeks!"

Mack rolled his eyes, and said tiredly, "Too much hero worship isn't healthy, you know. And don't call me that." _What's the point? He'll never learn. You can't teach an idiot new tricks. Except if you're Brittany. _

Kevin was undeterred. "But the man is coming! The man! Tommy Sherman brought it home, bro! The state championship. And now, he's coming back to Lawndale." He squeezed his football excitedly, and his eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"I know all about it. Jodie's giving the speech about the new goal post, remember?" Mack sighed.

If there was a lightbulb hanging over Kevin's head, it would have given a weak flicker. "Oh yeah!" he said. "Does she need any help with ideas for that? Like, from a quarterback's point of view?"

"Gee. I'll ask her... when there aren't any sharp objects around."

"Cool!" Kevin suddenly lowered his voice and whispered, "Do you think that we should hide the thing with two heads?"

Mack stopped. "I'm sorry?"

"You know. That freaky chick. The one with two heads."

Mack crossed his arms. "They're two separate people, Kevin. They're twins. And they're not freaks."

Kevin frowned, concerned. "But what if Tommy Sherman sees them? He might never come back here."

"Our loss, I guess," Mack said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

XXXX

Quinn and Daria heard about the impending arrival of Tommy Sherman later than anyone else, as their mere presence was enough to make anyone lower their voices. They eventually got the news when they heard Brittany telling a random girl in the next stall all about the event. And when she discovered that the twins were in that stall, she gave a nervous squeak and quickly walked out.

"So," Daria inquired to Jane, as the three of them sat on the school's front lawn during brunch period. "What's the big deal about this football guy, anyway?"

"Was he the first football player in Lawndale history to pass high school?" Quinn asked. That earned her another smile from her sister.

Jane shook her head, and explained: "He was quarterback three years ago when the school won the state championship. My brother knew him."

"Well, why name the goal posts after him? Why not the whole stadium?" Daria asked.

Quinn raised a finger into the air. "Or better yet, the jock straps!"

"Don't push it," Daria warned her. Quinn wrinkled her nose in mock frustration.

Jane continued, gesturing a little for emphasis. "They're only naming one goal post after him."

"Expenses?" Quinn asked.

"No. See, his trademark was, he always wanted to run the touchdown in himself."

"A real team player," Daria sniped.

"But he couldn't keep from waving to the crowd when he did it. They cheered, he waved, and wham! He ran right into the goal post."

"What an intelligent young man," Daria said sarcastically.

"Not," said Quinn.

Jane continued, "He broke his own nose twice."

Quinn rubbed her own, the memory of the rhinoplasty still fresh. "Sounds like a real smart guy."

Jane shrugged. "The school didn't care. Not when your star player ends up sending himself into a week-long coma and resurrects himself from the torpor before the championship game."

"A real miracle, the lord be praised," Daria deadpanned.

"So, now instead of noses shattering, the safe post will. I emphasize post. Li probably didn't want to pay for another." Jane noticed Jodie Landon approaching. "And there's the girl who'll be presenting the new zoo attraction herself!"

"Very funny, Jane." Jodie sat down between the three and shook the twins' hands. "Jodie Landon. Sorry I never really introduced myself before, I was kinda worried you would think I was being nice to you out of pity."

Quinn gave an understanding nod. "You'd be right."

"Nice people? In high school? But surely that is not possible!" Daria monotoned, commending herself on her faux-English accent mentally.

"Not in this state, it isn't," Jodie said.

Jane looked skyward, as though to contemplate the universe. "Yeah...which state would that be again?"

"Anyways," Jodie interjected, "I was going through my speech, and I can't get past the introduction. You three mind listening and giving me some pointers?"

"We need money first," Jane said. "Kidding."

Jodie read off, "'Good afternoon, students, faculty, and distinguished alumni of Lawndale High. As a representative of your Student Council...'" she stopped, unsure. Desperately, she looked around. "Any ideas?"

Daria gave it a moment of thought, and said, "It is my privilege today to once again send the message that learning is no substitute for winning."

Jane added, "And that it's not how hard you study, it's how hard you play football." She added a little mocking emphasis to football.

"So donate now, and you may all just walk out of here with your heads still attached!" Quinn finished, in a condescending impression of Principal Li.

Jodie groaned, and tossed the paper over her shoulder. "I'm done for."

"If you don't believe any of it, why give the speech?" Daria asked.

"Because I'm on the Student Council. It's a job with many responsibilities, and today it's my responsibility to kiss the butt of some jerk getting a goal post named after him, but at least now I feel really good about it."

Quinn frowned. "But he's not a student. Can't you just get some member of the staff to do it?"

Jodie shook her head. "No. It's supposed to make the alumnus feel like they're still appreciated. Still appreciated by people they've never met and probably don't want to meet."

Thinking, Quinn tapped her chin, trying to come up with a solution. Eventually, she said, "Jane says this guy was a big team player. Did he ever do anything really bad? You know...uh, Daria, what's that word for doing something bad that starts with an I?"

"Infractions?"

"Yeah, infractions. How many?"

"Lots," Jodie said. "What are you getting at?"

"Who's responsible for the ceremony?"

"The Student Council."

"Not Li?"

"We could display porn featuring her and there'd be nothing she could do about it."

"Okay, here's what you do. Instead of giving some stupid speech, ask the great Mr. Sherman during the ceremony about what it's like to achieve through diligent academic work. Then sit back and watch as he tries to BS his way through the rest of the assembly."

Mack walked over to the four and said, "Hey."

Nobody replied. In fact, everyone was in shocked silence, including Quinn, who was just as confused about this sudden behavior as Mack was.

XXXX

"I'm really impressed with what you suggested to Jodie," Daria said as she and her twin packed up their stuff and prepared to head to their next class. "You can be pretty evil when you want to be. Perhaps we should consider a career in politics..."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "The Republicans would call us devil-spawn and have us pressed to death with rocks."

"I see you actually remember 'The Crucible.' Impressive."

"You're too easily impressed, Daria. I'm amazed you haven't found a guy yet."

Daria averted her eyes quickly, and her voice became a little more robotic than usual. "My time is too valuable for it to be used on worthless relationships with the opposite sex."

Quinn went for the jugular. "Not even for Trent?"

Daria gave a quiet, "No," as she handed Quinn a book for her to put in their backpack.

"Come on Daria, you can't fool me. I felt the heat from your cheek when you blushed."

"That's because I've been running a fever lately. I may have the flu. Tag, you're it."

Quinn smiled slyly. "Uh-huh." Then she paled. "You, uh, don't really have the flu, do you?"

Before Daria could reply, they heard a high-pitched squeal coming from the hallway. They carefully craned their necks to hear better. "Is that Brittany?" Quinn asked.

"Doesn't matter. Come on, we have to get to 3rd period."

The twins had scarcely walked out the door before they saw a tall, muscular blond man running after Brittany. He shouted, "Hey, where are you going? Did someone flash the bimbo signal?"

Quinn gaped at his rudeness, while Daria gave a condescending frown. She said, "How much you want to bet that was the attention-impaired Neanderthal himself?"

"That was horrible! Brittany...she may be a ditz...but...wow."

They stared down the hall as Tommy Sherman turned a corner and continued pursuing Brittany.

XXXX

"You won't believe what this dude has done," Jane told the twins as they headed to their locker. "He tried to proposition five girls in the past hour alone."

"He went after Brittany, too," Quinn said. With some additional venom, she mumbled angrily, "And then he said some really racist stuff to Mack after fifth."

"Did Trent ever tell you how big of a twit this guy was?" Daria inquired.

Jane thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Trent never talks much about his time at Lawndale. I think he'd rather forget about it."

"He's not alone," the twins said simultaneously. Jane gave an impressed grin. They turned right and found the last person they wanted to see leaning on the twins' locker.

"Excuse me?" Daria said to Tommy Sherman.

He turned to the sound of her voice and the cocky expression on his face immediately turned into one of amazement and disgust. "Jesus Christ! What the hell are you supposed to be? Some kind of science experiment?"

Daria clenched her fist, and Quinn felt her cheeks burn with anger. "You're on our locker. Move, if you will."

He looked them up and down, and then gave a disturbingly lusty grin. "Two girls in one...hey, that's kind of cool. You two have one each?"

"One what?" Daria asked. But she already knew the answer.

"Heh, what about two melons apiece? That'd make you two like the perfect woman," Sherman said.

Jane took a step forward, ready to break his nose back into several separate pieces again. Daria signaled her to stop. She would have moved toward him for a more direct confrontation, but Quinn wouldn't budge. Deciding to check on her sister later, Daria put as much barb as she could in her voice and said, "If you had at least one working synapse in that lump of feces you call a brain, but you probably think it's a blob of jelly, you pompous, stuck-up, snot nosed, giant twerp, scumbag Cro-Magnon, you'd know that we're conjoined twins, which means one body but two minds. However, you probably lost the ability to recall, or even encode memory, after you decided to spend school running into a large structure, which is exactly why you're being honored here. For losing cognitive function. Congratulations."

For a moment, Sherman looked like he would have loved nothing more than to grab Daria's head and smash it into Quinn's. Then he grinned and said, "You know what Tommy Sherman is going to do now? He's going to go out onto the field and check out his new goal post. He's going to read the plaque and think of all the people who admire him. But you wouldn't know anything about that, because you're some kind of retard freak that everyone hates. And everyone will always hate you, because you're weird, and a freak. Freak." He walked off in the direction of the football field.

For what seemed like an hour, the three stood there, letting the event burn into their minds. Daria looked at Quinn: her eyes were red and running. But she made no sound.

Eventually, in the most optimistic tone she could muster for Quinn's sake, Jane said, "Well, he's an ass."

"A real gentleman," Daria added.

"I hope he drops dead," Quinn said.

Daria and Jane froze: they were not disturbed by what Quinn had said, but rather because her voice was identical to Daria's. "Well," Jane said, more than a little concerned, "Sometimes wishes do come true."

There was a booming noise in the distance, outside the school building. Students were already running outside to check it out. Jane, Daria, and Quinn could hear Kevin scream, "Oh, my God! The goal post fell! Tommy Sherman's dead! He's dead!" The last sentence came out prolonged and agonized.

While Daria and Jane exchanged shocked looks, a slightly quivering smile appeared on Quinn's face, and she breathed a little easier.

XXXX

After Sherman's flattened corpse had been taken away by the medics, Li called for an indefinite sixth period, which ended up lasting two hours. Eventually, an announcement came saying that all students and faculty were required to come to an assembly in the auditorium. A picture of Sherman and some flowers were hastily thrown around. Behind the blacked-out windows of the control box, a video camera recorded Li's entire speech.

Up on the podium, she spoke with as solemn a voice she could muster. "How does one make sense of a tragedy so... tragic? A young man, our hero, struck down in a freakish accident by the very goal post that was being put up in his honor. What lesson can we take from all of this... other than not to leave heavy goal posts in sharp edged wooden crates leaning precariously against the bleachers?" She gave a filthy look at the janitors, who looked like they would have loved nothing more than to run and hide. "The lesson is to spread joy, spread light! Make it your goal to make others feel good. And when you reach that goal, you keep running until you reach the goal post. You hit that goal post hard, and that's what this young man did, and that is the legacy he left to you, to me, to Lawndale High-" she stopped at the ever-increasing pitch of Kevin's weeping, as Brittany futilely tried to calm him. Shaking her head, Li pleaded, "Can someone get him out of here so we can sing 'One Sweet Day'?"

XXXX

Walking down the hallway (with eardrums that one could describe as having been violated) Daria said to Jane, "It's weird. One minute he's standing there calling us a freak, the next minute he's dead."

"I guess Karma really does exist," Jane said. "Now if only teachers starting giving us Fs on purpose..." This did not get a response, not even from the easily-amused Quinn. Jane glanced at her. She had not lifted her head for the past hour. "Hey, you all right there number two?"

"Mm?" Quinn went. "Yeah. I'm okay." Her flat monotone persisted.

"Well, what you two say to coming back to my place to watch 'The Revenge of Doctor Nibrof'?"

Before Daria could reply, Brittany accosted them. "Hi, uh...Jane. Daria. Quinn."

"Brittany..." said Jane and Daria. Quinn still would not look up.

"I...uhm...was wondering if I could...talk to one of you...about Tommy Sherman?"

"It is probably within your field of ability," Daria said. "Why don't you talk to Kevin?"

Brittany's face fell into her hands. "I can't talk to Kevin! He doesn't understand! Tommy Sherman was such a jerk!" She gave a frustrated sob that came out like the squeak of a mouse.

"Well, for once we have to come to an agreement on something," Jane said.

Brittany suddenly became as stiff as a board. She looked repulsed. "Oh my God! I called a dead guy a jerk!"

"Are you upset over his death?" Daria inquired. "Because that would indicate some sort of positive attachment."

Brittany gagged. "Ew! Attached! No way! He wanted to fertilize me!" Jane gave a snort, and Brittany moaned. "Why did that jerk make me hate him? Now he's dead and I feel bad but I don't feel that bad so I feel terrible! It really makes you think. I mean, you're all probably used to being all gloomy and depressed and thinking about bad stuff..."

"Damn, Brittany. Now my secrete mutilation fantasies are out," Daria monotoned. Brittany did not seem to hear; she was still sobbing and rubbing her eyes in exasperation.

"Well, Brittany, it's not like he was a good guy," Jane said. "I wouldn't kick yourself over it. He gave you no reason to mourn him."

"And feeling guilty for not feeling guilty enough is a certain sign that you keep that bubbly cheerleader persona," Daria added. "So please, stop crying before you drown the rest of the school."

Brittany ceased her weeping and gave Daria a thankful look. "Wow!" she said, with a smile. "That actually helps! Thanks Daria! You're not as big as a weirdo as I thought! Bye!" She skipped off. Daria and Jane exchanged looks.

"Well, at least I still get to be a weirdo."

XXXX

"So, what's with you? Why aren't you saying anything?"

Quinn sighed and gave a hard stare at her homework. "I just don't want to talk about it." Her voice still pertained a monotone identical to Daria's.

"It's not your fault he died."

"That's not what's bothering me."

"What then?"

"What's the answer to problem ten?"

"Between one and ten million. What's your-"

"Look, Daria. I don't want to talk about it. And that's it. Leave me alone."

Knowing she couldn't change her mind, Daria sighed and returned her attention to her own worksheet. _Despite that I like the idea of having a sister with a 'downer' personality, she is not up to the mental strain of it._

XXXX

Over the next few days, Quinn remained in some kind of a torpor. Daria was able to hide this from their mother by saying that Quinn had lately been having trouble sleeping, but she knew this illusion was not going to last forever. Nothing seemed to interest Quinn. Daria even put on a fashion show on the TV at one point, which only garnered a brief grunt from Quinn. If she did talk, it was with a deadpan monotone. Jane's attempts at jest fell completely flat. Quinn didn't even take up an opportunity to make commentary at O'Neill, who broke down in front of the twins about Tommy Sherman, which Daria had to console him for.

Laying awake one night, the twins just stared at the ceiling; Quinn in a lethargic mental state, while Daria planned. _If she won't talk to me, she won't with mom either, and no phony school psychologist either. So, options, options...maybe her crush will eugh, I can't believe I just thought that word, maybe Gage can help out here. It's certainly worth a shot._

XXXX

There was a knock at the door. Daria and Quinn did not get down to get it, but Daria knew who it was. She heard their mother answer it: "Oh, hello! And who might you be?"

"Uh, my name's Gage. I'm a friend of Quinn." Quinn was immediately alert.

"Nice to meet you Gage, I'm Helen. So, what brings you here?"

"Daria called me, said Quinn wanted to talk to me."

"Oh, well, all right. I'll call them. DARIA! QUINN! THERE'S A BOY HERE THAT WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!"

Quinn gave Daria a shocked and bemused expression. Daria pointed at the door, and without any questioning from Quinn, they slowly walked downstairs and stood at the foot of them. Gage looked utterly at loss at why he had been summoned. "Mom," Daria said. "Is it too much that I ask you for a little privacy?"

Helen looked cautious, but she said, "All right. I'll be upstairs if you need me."

"Thanks." Once she had left, Daria held her hand toward the chair. Gage sat down, with the twins on the couch.

With a little concern in his voice, Gage inquired, "Is everything okay?"

Daria nodded. "Quinn's a little...confused. Someone died at our school. An alumnus."

Gage's eyes widened. He leaned back in the chair. "So, what does it have to do with you two?"

"He called us some...unflattering things. Quinn rightfully stated that he deserved to drop dead. Which is what he did soon after she voiced that feeling."

Gage asked, "Do you feel guilty, Quinn?"

Quinn shook her head, but then she lowered her head and gasped. She started to cry. "He was so horrible...not even at the other Lawndale in California was there anyone...and now he's dead, and I'm happy! I'm glad he's gone! Even Brittany feels bad about it, but I don't! I feel horrible about feeling good! I'm horrible!" Daria and Gage let her cry for a few more minutes. When Helen came to check, Daria waved her off, and Helen reluctantly retreated. Eventually, when Quinn was able to control herself, she asked Gage, "Why are you here?"

He nodded at Daria. "She told me that you were upset, that I could help."

Quinn gave her sister an appreciate look that suddenly turned to a pleading one. "Daria, could you, ahm, give me and Gage some privacy?"

Gage frowned, quite confused at how two girls who would be with each other forever could possible have privacy. That thought was answered when Daria took an Sony Discman from the coffee table, put on a pair of headphones, and turned on the device. 'Peace of Mind' played.

Gage licked his lips and asked cautiously, "So, are you okay?"

Quinn wiped at an eye. "Do I look it?"

"Not really."

"Never did anyways."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Well, you are here." Quinn shook her head. "But it's so stupid..."

Gage crossed his arms, and gave an encouraging smile, that was somewhat off-putting because of his makeup, but Quinn didn't care. "I'm all ears. You never know, I had a friend who aspired to be a shrink. Hopefully, something rubbed off."

Quinn gave an amused huff, but her smile faded. "I was so glad he died. And how sick is that?"

Gage shrugged.

"He said all these nasty things to me, and afterwards I thought to myself, maybe he didn't really know better. It might not have been his fault."

"Quinn, we all have to take responsibility at some point for what we do."

"It's just...I don't know...I guess it was a sick satisfaction that I knew he would never be mean to me again."

Nodding, Gage sat back and thought for a minute. After a little while, he nodded his head. "Can I talk to Daria?"

Quinn nodded. She poked Daria, who gave a sarcastic, "Dammit, not now. I was just on the best part." Quinn took the player.

Once Quinn was deaf to them, Daria asked, "Well?"

Gage bit his lip. "She's really glad that this dude bit the dust."

"Yes."

"And he will never call her...what did he call you two again?"

"Freak, things like that."

"Maybe, and this is just my guess here, maybe she's glad that nobody is going to remind her of that."

Daria frowned. "Pardon?"

Gage quickly waved his hands. "Look, I have no idea what it's like to have another person attached to you, but I can imagine it's not exactly pleasant."

"Having never known what it's like to be independent, I can imagine."

"You and Quinn are pretty much identical, but Quinn's gone out of her way to be somebody else. It's something all teens do, changing their appearances to reflect a period of mental change."

"Go on, Doctor Harris."

Gage smirked at the title. "Well, when did Quinn, er, 'remodel' herself?"

"Elementary school."

"Yeah, uh, I think she hates herself, and probably has for a while."

Daria froze. She looked at her sister, who was politely staring at the ceiling listening to their favorite rock 'n roll band. "Well, I would too if I had to strain my vocal cords all the time with that squeaky voice."

"Daria, I'm really serious here. If I were conjoined, I'd want to feel as unique as possible. But that ass told Quinn that she wasn't."

"Are you getting at something?"

"Yeah." He took a deep breath. "I'm pretty sure Quinn hates being alive." He let Daria absorb this for a moment, then continued, "Maybe she was associating her disdain for her own existence with this dude, and him being dead kind of took it all away. Well, that's going a bit far. She probably just hates being conjoined a lot more than she lets on."

Daria ran her fingers through her hair, contemplating this. _She's never hid the fact that she loathes being attached to me, but...suicidal tendencies? No, no, that would mean killing me too, we can't survive without each other. She doesn't want to die. She's angry for being born in the first place. Maybe she doesn't even realize it. I don't know, I just don't. How can I?_ She looked at Quinn, at her solemn, depressed expression. _In any case, she needs a little cheering up._ Daria waved her hand in front of Quinn's ears and motioned at her take out the headphones. After she did so, Daria pointed at her arm. Quinn gave an, "Oh," and the twins crossed their arms. Daria turned back to Gage. "I thought that considering your own traumas, Gage, you'd be able to give her some words of advice."

Alarm and shock registered on Gage's face so quickly that not even he had realized it. He cleared his throat, and leaned forward to Quinn. "Yeah. When I was still in school, one of my classmates died. I wasn't particularly glad he was gone, or upset either. It's kind of funny, after the administrator told me he died, and everyone else started crying, the teacher asked us if anyone still wanted to take the test." He grinned. "I was the only one to raise my hand." He took a breath and said with a more solemn tone, "But later, I realized that I was kind of glad this guy was gone. I wondered if I was a horrible person myself. It was one of the worst times of my life. But I realized..." he got up and sat next to Quinn, and tenderly held her hand. "We're all just human."

Quinn looked at her hand, then back up at Gage. She whispered, "Thank you." Her monotone disappeared.

"Yes," Daria said. "That was nice and all. Now Quinn, quick question. What's coming up in a few weeks?"

Quinn frowned at this sudden inquiry, but she said in her bubbly voice, "Our birthday!"

Daria nodded. "And I want to talk to Gage about some...arrangements. So you mind if we have a private conversation?"

Looking downtrodden for a moment, Quinn smiled and said, "Sure. That's fine." She took the CD player that rested on the coffee table, put on the headphones, and turned up the volume.

Gage asked eagerly, "So, when's your-"

"Why'd you lie about yourself?"

Gage froze. "What?"

If Quinn wasn't looking at them both, Daria would have given an angry glare. "Just a simple questioning of your mentality doesn't account for your arms."

Hastily, Gage made sure his sleeves covered his wrists, and frustratedly ground his teeth. "Is that why you really asked me here?"

"No, I really did think you could help. But sometime, Quinn's going to know what kind of a person you are. And I want that to be sooner than later."

Gage took a breath. "Okay. Just let me do it after your birthday."

Daria nodded, turned to Quinn and pointed at her ears. She took off the headphones, and Gage asked in a fake, excited tone, "So, thanks for everything. I'll make sure that all the arrangements are made."

"Thanks for coming Gage," Daria mumbled. She said a little louder, "You were a great help. Really."

Quinn, blushing a little, asked, "So, what's going to happen on my birthday?"

"You'll see," Gage smiled. "It's...special." He shuffled up to the door. "See you two later."

Outside, as he walked away from the Morgendorffer home, he buried his face in his hands and moaned. "No, no no no."

-Many thanks to Peetz, ST91, and Jeremy G. for beta-reading, and for various cool ideas!


	11. An Announcement for a Hiatus

Hello, everyone!

Precambrian here. I hope you're enjoying this series, but I have a bit of bad news. Up until now, each chapter of this series has been posted a while back on the PPMB, and I haven't written anything new for a while, and once I do, I want to put it on there first and get some more outside opinions, THEN I will post the next chapter here.

Sorry for making you all wait.

Respectfully,

Precambrian

P.S. HOWEVER, I am going to be posting my spinoff series here, ASPS. So, if you want more of Gage, Ethan, and two new characters, feel free to check it out!


	12. Adopted

Michael carefully moved the blade down the right side of his cheek to remove the last little bit of stubble there was left. He rubbed his cheeks and smiled. "Much better," he said, wholly satisfied with his handiwork. He washed away the last of the cream with a hand-made wash-cloth and left it in the sink.

He checked his watch, then he trotted downstairs into his studio to work on another dress. The Oscars were coming up, and he had already gotten half a dozen orders. Hopkins split his tuxedo at the waistline again, and Vergara wanted to use an older dress that had several holes in it. He awaited the mailman. He checked his watch again. There was a knock at his door. Michael opened it, thanked the deliveryman, and brought the package inside. He brought out a long, black gown that belonged to one of the actresses from Gone With the Wind. He put it aside and went off to a closet hidden behind one of the large mirrors to find the right tools. He checked his watch. Michael came back with a sewing machine and a few balls of thin black thread. He was about to get to work when the door-bell rang. He checked his watch. _Wow, he's early._ He went to open the door and gave the man standing there a brotherly hug. "Good to see you, Eric!"

"Thanks, Mike," said a smiling Eric, a tall man with a 'baby-face' and brown hair that reached down to his back in a mullet. "God, what's it been…two years now?"

"I think so. Come on in!"

Eric walked inside the studio and whistled. "Nice place. Might need a bit of work, though."

"It was like this when I bought it. I paid off the whole thing immediately."

"I bet. Your hobby keeping you afloat?"

Michael nodded. He pulled up an armchair from the corner for Eric to sit in, and took a folding chair for himself. Eric thanked him and fell into the chair. A fine layer of dust exploded from the cushions. Eric coughed. "So," Michael said, "How's the firm doing?"

"Fine. Everyone else says hi."

"And how are they?"

Eric coughed into his fist. "Pardon me for saying this; I'm just hoping for Jim to drop dead. He keeps trying to explain to me how putting work ahead of family is the only way to get a goddamn raise."

"Jim was always a bit of a pain."

"Yeah. Rick's now going on about how he's going to start a children's book series and move to Texas. I think it's baloney, he likes the climate here too much. Dan almost got arrested for trying to attack a couple Republicans at a rally, and Suzanne's trying to start up a French restaurant downtown. I think she knows jack about the French, but hey, if she wants to waste all that dough, it's not my problem."

"No. And you?"

"Me? I'm just trying to deal with the crap my sisters put me up to and my new daughter. She's a rambunctious kid, likes to take my wife's glasses and go around the house with them. She bumps into stuff a lot. It is pretty damn cute, though."

"Where'd you adopt her from?"

"This place downtown, 'St. Mary's Center for Lost and Wayward Children.' Entirely run by nuns. Nasty nuns, too."

"How so?"

"You walk in, and they automatically treat you like some kind of a criminal. Hey, you and Lilly were thinking of adopting, right?"

Michael nodded slowly. "We heard about this boy. They say he's really smart and sews in his spare time, but they didn't tell me if he had any problems, or what happened to his parents." Michael leaned forward in anticipation. He tapped the floor nervously. "But anyways, did you find her?"

Eric sighed. He put on his reading glasses and opened the suitcase he had brought with him. He removed a large record-book and scanned through its contents until he found the appropriate section. "You ready for this? She's filing from Jurassic Park."

Michael groaned. 'Jurassic Park' was a term the firm had jokingly used to refer to New York. Lilly did not want to be found. "Total divorce, she wants about fifty grand."

Michael was surprised. "That's it?"

Eric looked up. "Were you expecting more?"

"A bit. I never looked at a lot of divorces, but usually the separating spouse requests enough to buy a house, and if that person wasn't the breadwinner, they expect a lot more."

"She says, and I quote, 'Clive will take good care of me.'"

Grounding his teeth angrily, Michael recalled the buff man who appeared on Michael's doorstep one day and told him he was taking Lilly away, the day after she had left. It took a lot of self-restraint to prevent Michael from punching him in the face. He had boxed at Harvard.

"She wants you to keep all of the wedding pictures. She says she'd feel bad if she took those from you."

"It's not like she needs them either."

"…point."

"Anything else? Did she give a reason for why she needs the money, if dear old Clive can take care of her?"

"I guess they want to buy a small house."  
Michael gave a relaxed breath, trying not to be angry at the woman of his life, who had now abandoned him. I need to calm down anyways, before I go to see… he checked his watch and jumped. "Crud!" He ran for his jacket.

"What's wrong?" called Eric.

Michael hurriedly put on his favorite midnight-blue tie. "Sorry, Eric, I have to go, I have an appointment."

"Where?"

"The adoption center. I'm going to meet that boy today."

"You're still interested? Now that she's gone?"

"Of course! I always wanted a kid. See you."

"Wait! Do I stay or should I-" Michael closed the door and dove into his sedan and drove off.

XXXX

Michael rapped on the door to St. Mary's. A middle-aged nun adorned in blue robes peeked her head out the door. She looked Michael up and down with a critical eye. "Yes?"

"Um, I'm here for an appointment."

"You have an appointment?"

"Uh, yes."

The nun emerged, holding a clipboard. "Name?"

"Michael."

She scrolled down a list with a pencil. "Harris?"

"That's the one."

She gave a sigh, as if she had been hoping he would lie. "Okay, come on in."

No sooner than he had stepped inside that a small, screaming boy was carted away in front of him by two tired nuns. "When's it going to start?" he heard one cry as she led the boy away.

"Should have started already!" the other nun said.

"Follow me," gruffly said the nun attending Michael.

"All right," he said. He heard the boy scream rooms away.

The nun led him past groups of children happily playing with toys, watching television, and reading small books. Many of them waved to Michael as he passed. He smiled and waved back.

The nun led him into a conference room with a long wooden table. "Sit," she said sharply. "Mrs. Dressler will attend you shortly." Michael quickly sat in a chair close to the table's mid-section.

"So," the nun grumbled, "You're here to adopt a child?"

Tired of her attitude, Michael sniped, "Well, I'm certainly not here for the polite company."

The nun's eyes widened. Michael guessed she did not get a lot of back-talk. "You don't look like you'd be a good parent," she growled.

Michael crossed his arms over his chest. "Really?"

"You look like a thug."

"You look like a whale."

The nun's eyes widened.

"More like a penguin," said a cold voice.

Both Michael and the nun turned their heads to the door leading to the small office. Mrs. Dressler was a tall woman with midnight-black hair that reached down past her shoulders and brown eyes so dark they were almost black. Her skin was very pale. She smiled at Michael. "Mr. Harris." She glanced at the nun. "Beatrice. You can go now."

The nun cast a frigid glance at Dressler. Mumbling to herself, she left the room.

Dressler walked up to him and they shook hands. "Alix Dressler, I'm sorry about Beatrice, she's had a pole up her ass for the past few weeks. Please, sit back down."

He did so. She sat in a chair across from him. Dressler took a manilla envelope she'd been holding in her hand and set it on the desk. She put on a pair of reading glasses. "So, you want to adopt…Gage?"

He nodded. "Yes, I do."

She folded her hands together. "And what qualifies you to be his adopted parent and or guardian?"

"Well, I'm a retired lawyer, with a very large bank account, if I do say so myself, so I can financially provide for him. I've also been told Gage likes to sew. I have a whole studio where he can go absolutely crazy. I have all kinds of things he can tinker with. And I assure you, I will supervise him."

"A lawyer, huh? Me too. Where'd you graduate?"

"Harvard."

"Huh, what a coincidence, so did I. And my husband, did you ever meet anyone named-"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Dressler, I just wanted to ask. You're not an adoption agent?"

She shook her head."No, I'm asked to come in when certain children are being considered for adoption. And Gage is a very…interesting boy."

Michael frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Have you been informed of his condition?"

"He has a condition?"

"Yes, and it's very serious mental condition." Dressler took a paper with a large red cross on the top of it from the folder and slid it across the desk over to Michael. He read its contents quickly. "Which parent did he get it from?"

"We don't know. His mother is dead and his father is missing. Were you informed of this?"

"No, it's all news to me. I was just told by a friend who knows someone who said there was a smart boy who liked to sew."

"And he does, according to his file. When some of the other children tear their clothing, they let Gage fix them up. He's also reading chapter books. Large ones. But he's not social at all, apparently. He does not talk to the other children and stays far away from them."

"Did something happen to him?"

"Mr. Harris, how much were you told about Gage?"

"Very little."

"And how much research did you put into him?"

Michael looked away guiltily. "Not much. Bad idea."

"Well, let me answer your question for you first. Yes, Gage was taken from his home by a welfare agent. He was not aware his mother had died, and the agent found his father sitting in an armchair, staring at the wall. Neither of them had eaten for days. After the agent left with Gage, she sent police officers to get his father, but he was gone."

"Gone? Do they know where he is?"

"No, and the police are unwilling to divert further resources to find him."

"What happened to his mother?"

"I don't know. She was sent to the hospital for some reason, the same hospital my husband is in charge of. He can't reveal anything to me for the sake of confidentiality."

"You're kidding me."

"I'm not. I want to make something very clear, Mr. Harris. Gage could be a hard child to raise. He has a very serious medical condition which will require medication, and he's very, very smart. People are usually comfortable handling stupid, happy children who will do anything their parents tell them. Gage is anything but. I have no doubt you can raise him, but the question is, do you want to?"

Michael thought about it. _I had no idea. Do I still want this kid? Am I the right person for him? Well...there's one way I can figure this all out…._

"May I see him, please?" Michael asked.

Dressler nodded. She stood up. "Would you mind following me? Gage has his own room, I don't think he'd be very comfortable here."

"Absolutely," Michael said. He tugged at his collar, excited to finally meet this boy.

Dressler led him back toward the entrance. Once he was close to the door that led inside Gage's room, he realized it was the same one he had seen the screaming child being led into.

Dressler knocked. "Gage? Gage? It's Alix. Can I come in?"

"No!"

"Gage, there's someone here who wants to meet you. He's thinking about adopting you."

"Nnnno!"

Michael stepped forward. "Let me try." He spoke in a soothing voice he had used with children when he worked in the Peace Corps. "Gage? My name's Michael. I like doing stuff with clothes too. Can I come in?"

There was a pause. "Okay," came the barely audible whisper.

Michael turned to Dressler. "I got this," he said. She nodded and walked away. Slowly, he turned the knob and walked inside, closing the door slowly behind him.

Before he noticed anything else, his eyes were drawn to the walls. From about three feet down, they were covered in random drawings and scribbles. There were confused phrases scrawled over the place, some forming sentences, others complete babble. 'Mommy' was a common term. Besides that, the room had a single window which offered a depressing view of the parking lot outside. Books were messily stacked in the corner of the room. The wall opposite to the door hosted a small plastic table, where a few pin-cushions and squares of fabric sat.

Under the window-sill sat a small boy with hair that barely tickled his ears, and black as midnight, matching his eyes. He was paler than Dressler; obviously, he had been inside for far too long. His hands, both holding knitting needles, trembled uncontrollably. He was not taking his eyes of Michael.

He approached Gage and sat cross-legged in front of him. "Hi, Gage. I'm Michael." He extended his forefinger. Gage regarded it with caution, then shook it.

"Hi," he mumbled.

"I'm thinking about adopting you."

"Why?" the question came bluntly, as though he doubted anyone wanted to at all.

"Well, you and I both seem to like sewing."

"You sew?"

"Sure do. I have a whole building full of clothing stuff. I have dresses, suits, dummies, yarn, and all other tools. Think of what you could do with all that."

Gage paused. "Wow," he said.

"I've also been told you're smart."

"That's right."

Michael laughed. Gage's hands trembled even more violently. "Are you making fun of me?" he shouted.

A nun poked her head inside. "Gage, you behaving?" she snapped.

Michael waved her off, frustrated at the interruption. "I've got it," he said. The nun retreated.

When Michael turned back to Gage, he saw the boy's lip was trembling now too. "Sorry, Gage, I wasn't making fun of you. I thought you were funny."

Gage understood. "Okay," he said.

"Gage, do you like it here?"

"No!" he automatically replied.

"Do you want to leave?"

Gage's head bobbed vigorously. "Yes!"

"Would you like to leave with me?"

Gage did not reply. Looking at him, Michael could see that Gage probably had never had a happy day in his life; he was unsmiling, wary, and scared. He was a child that the staff was not equipped to handle, and was feared because of that. He had no friends, and probably little hope of being adopted.

"Gage, are you happy here?"

Gage shook his head vigorously. "No."

"But do they treat you okay?"

"They all think I'm a freak and stupid."

Michael leaned forward. His tone became more serious, and his smile disappeared. "I don't think you're stupid, Gage. From what I can see, you're special, in more ways than one. I think you'd be happy with me, because I will let you create whatever you want. I will make sure you are fed, clothed, and go to good schools. I will be there for you and make sure you are safe."

Gage was momentarily confused. He had never met another grown-up who had treated him like a grown-up before. The instant he realized that, he determined that Michael was too, special.

"Okay, I'll go with you," Gage said. "But if I don't like you I'm going to run away."

"Sounds fair," Michael said.

XXXX

"No, no, I'll get them," Michael said about Gage's luggage as he unlocked the door. "You go on inside, check the place out."

Gage ran inside and froze at the sight of all the mannequins and equipment that were lying around for him to use. He could tell that hundreds of hours of work were here. HUNDREDS. "I'm going to need more pairs of scissors," he thought out loud.

Michael pointed to one of the large mirrors. "Want to know something cool? You push that mirror, you'll find a whole closet of tools. And you can use all of them."

Gage looked up at Michael, his eyes wide. "Really? Can I?"

"As long as you're careful, be my guest. I'll have to show you how, though."

"Okay!" Gage exclaimed. He immediately dashed away. It was the first time Michael had seen him smile.

XXXX

"Gage!" Michael called. "Dinner!"

Gage rapidly descended the staircase and planted himself in one of the high-chairs. He took a napkin and folded it in his lap.

"How'd you like your room?"

"I liked it a lot! There's a lot of room. The hallway is kinda scary. It's dark and a bit dank."

"Nice word, dank."

"Thanks."

Michael put a bowl of soup in front of Gage. "Careful, it's hot."

Gage took a few spoonfuls. "It doesn't taste like anything."

"I'm not the best cook."

"That's okay."

Michael sat down across from Gage. "So Gage, I wanted to talk to you about some stuff. Man to man."

"Man to boy."

Michael chuckled. "That too. So, now that I'm your legal guardian, you're going to have my last name."

"What is it?"

"Harris."

"That's okay. Everyone says my last name wrongly anyways. I can't even spell it."

"Also, next week I'm going to enroll you in the elementary school. Is that okay?"

"Sure."

"Lastly, I wanted to ask you: what do you want to call me?"

Gage pondered, tapping his finger against the tabletop as he did so. "Not Dad."

"No, not Dad."

"Grandpa?"

"Hey," Michael cried with playful indignity. "I'm not THAT old!"

Gage giggled.

"But I guess grandpa is good. Or gramps, whatever works."

Gage gave a nod. He went back to his soup, as did Michael.

Just as he was finishing, Gage said, "Gramps?"

Michael looked up. Gage's eyes were pleading. "Yes Gage?"

"You promise not to abandon me?"

"I will never abandon you, Gage. Do you want to abandon me?"

Gage thought about it. "No," he said.

"You sure?"

Smiling, Gage gave an affirmative nod. "Positive," he said confidently.

-So, even though the next chapter after "Les Poussins" is not complete, I still have a couple prequel pieces to hold you over until it's done.

And if you haven't, check out ASPS for more of Gage.

Thanks to peetz for beta-reading!


	13. It Takes Two

**One Year Earlier**

While VanDrissen discussed the ethics (or lack thereof) of torture, Butt-Head poked his blonde-haired companion in the forehead and whispered, "Hey Beavis. You think, like, Daria and Quinn have four thingies? Uhuhuhuhuhuh."

Beavis giggled at the thought. "MMMMMHEH. Oh yeah, huh? Maybe, like, we should ask them?"

"Good idea, dude." Raising his voice so that Daria and Quinn could hear, (so naturally, the whole class could) Butt-Head inquired. "Uuhuhuhuh. Hey Diarrhea, do you and your twin, like, have two each?"

Daria twisted her neck around to see the two idiots out of the corner of her eye. "Two what, moron?"

"Two boobs? Like, apiece? Uuuuuuuhuhuhuh."

"Butt-Head!" cried VanDrissen. "That is a completely inappropriate thing to ask! I want you to apologize to them right now, and immediately head to see Mr. McVicker!"

Butt-Head regarded the twins with dull eyes. "Uh, sorry? Uhuhuhuh." He leaped out of his chair and left the classroom. Quinn's lip trembled with anger.

XXXX

After a brief scolding courtesy of the principal, Butt-Head exited his office and was greeted by Beavis, who had cut class to see him. "So, like, what did McDicker have to say? MMMMMHEH?"

"Uuhuhuhuhuh. He said I have to write a letter to Daria and Quinn saying that I'm sorry."

"What, with letters? That sucks."

"It really sucks. Sucks monkey butt. Uhuhuhuhh."

"Hey boys!" Beavis and Butt-Head whipped around. To their surprise, Daria and Quinn stood across from them down the hall. Both of their fists were clenched. Daria whispered something to Quinn, who nodded.

"Hey, Beavis. The wonder twins have been summoned by our charms. Uhuhuhuhhuh."

Daria and Quinn stomped up to Butt-Head. Before he knew what was happening, the twins stretched their necks away from each other, and swung their heads at Butt-Head's temples. He dropped like a rock. The twins stared at Beavis, who expressed a, "Cool. MMMMMMHEH."

Daria said slowly and quietly for an extra emphasis on the threat, "Get out of here, Beavis. Or you're next."

Beavis giggled and walked back to class, leaving his friend on the floor moaning.

Quinn, shaking with fury, stared at Butt-Head's slack form. Daria noted, "You realize that not only have we just skipped class, but we just assaulted a student, right? We're bound to get suspended."

Quinn stomped in frustration. "That's not good enough. I want out of here. Now. I'm sick of this idiot and his friend. I'm sick of the way people are staring at us! I'm sick of this whole goddamn hick town!"

Daria shrugged. She reached into her pocket and offered her sister, "Cough drop? For your various sicknesses?" she said dryly. Quinn angrily slapped it out of Daria's hand. She looked at her shocked sister with a sudden determination. "I'll do it. I don't care how it makes us look, I don't care if it's humiliating. I'll do it."

Daria's eyebrows tried to fly away. "You're seriously that desperate to get out of here?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"YES!"

"Okay, okay, jeez." Daria sighed. _That's three towns down now._ "Okay, but if we're going to pull this stunt off, we're going to need a lot of..."

XXXX

**Four Days Later**

It had not taken long for the police cars to get to Highland High; they were almost always on standby after three bomb threats a week. The students had been evacuated, and they all stood outside, confused. There had been no shots, not explosions, no screaming. And yet they were all outside for some reason.

Beavis turned to Butt-Head, who was still munching on a decaying taco. "MMMMMHEH. Hey, uh, can I have some of that dude?"

"Uhuhuhuhuh. No way man. Go get your own damn taco." A serious mistake: Beavis immediately jumped onto Butt-Head and wrestled with him over the taco . Nearby policeman, disappointed that they had not yet been called to storm the school, tasered the duo in front of the entire student body (who burst into uproarious cheers) and threw them into the back of a van.

"Uhuhuuhuh. Hey Beavis. That was cool," Butt-Head said, his hair standing on end.

"Yeah, MMM MMMMHEH."

After another few hours, armed policemen walked out of Highland High's front doors, escorting Daria and Quinn Morgendorffer.

XXXX

Hours later, principal McVicker was talking to their parents in his office. "Uh, uh, I have no idea how those girls, did it, but they did. I thought I'd seen it all since Beavis and Butt-Head came here, but...my god." McVicker uncapped a bottle of bourbon and took a long swig in front of Helen and Jake, who had been immediately called.

Helen twidled her thumb. "Honestly Mr. McVicker, I'm sure they meant nothing by it-"

"Meant nothing by it?!" He took another swig. He belched and cried, "It's going to take months to undo the damage those two did! I'm sorry, but they're expelled immediately! We will not let them back onto this campus."

"Expelled?!" cried Jake.

Helen leaned forward threateningly. "You will not dare expel my girls. They are hard-working and have had to endure much abuse at the hands of the faculty and students of this poor excuse of a school that you claim to manage. I can sue you for so many reasons-"

Without a word, McVicker procured a picture of what Daria and Quinn had done and held it up to Helen and Jake, who immediately recoiled in horror.

"Oh my god!" screamed Jake.

XXXX

Outside the school, Daria and Quinn sat surrounded by armed guards. Daria was reading A Case of Need, and Quinn anxiously awaited their parents' return.

After what seemed like days of waiting, Helen and Jake emerged from the school. On Helen's face was pure, true rage.

Quinn happily yelled out, "It worked!"

XXXX

"How could you two do such a thing?!" screamed a significantly calmer Helen to the twins as they sat on the couch in their living room. After the twins had been released by the police after Helen agreed that they would not be returning to Highland High, they were immediately taken home, ordered to sit on the couch and not move for two hours while Helen decided on a punishment. Ultimately, she could not think of one heinous enough. "Do either of you want a future?! What you two did could be seen by colleges for the rest of your lives! It's going to take me months to-"

"To what, mom?" Daria inquired flatly. "Do you intend to punish us by having us exonerated by the legal system?"

"If I can."

Daria and Quinn both were taken aback. "Why?" they asked.

Helen sighed. She knelt in front of the girls, took their hands, and looked back and forth between them. "Daria, Quinn. I know it's been really hard for you both. And I want you two to be happy, I really do. It's a mother's goal to make her children happy. I know you're both upset." She withdrew, stood back up, and her face hardened again. "But that's no reason for you two to do what you did! I mean, for the love of God! They still haven't managed to clean up..." she looked up at her copy of the police report and struggled to pronounce the subject for which she intended to reprimand them for. Eventually, she gave up. "And that poor boy Stewart! I got a call from his mother saying that he's still wetting his pants."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Well, it never really took much." Daria chuckled briefly.

Helen sighed and fell into a chair. "What am I going to do with you two?"

"You could transfer our minds into new bodies," Daria suggested. Helen moaned again. And after a moment, so did Daria. "Or, you could send us to live somewhere where people our age will not want to run screaming at the sight of us."

Quinn gave a snort and looked at the floor in dejection. "Yeah right. What are the odds of that?" It was true; the reason why Helen and Jake had decided to move to California because a family friend told them that California's school system was excellent, and the students well-behaved. Two weeks of high school there at Lawndale High quickly proved them to be full of crap.

Helen looked up. "I'm not SENDING you anywhere. You're my darlings, and I'm going wherever you're going. Right Jake? Jake?" Helen noticed he wasn't in the room. "JAKE!"

"I'm on the toilet honey!" The three women rolled their eyes. It was Jake's most commonly-used excuse to avoid family meetings.

Helen reached into her bag and withdrew a flyer. "There's one more high school we want you two to try before we consider private school. Here."

Daria looked at the flyer. "There's another Lawndale High?" Helen nodded.

Daria frowned. "Isn't it one of the lowest-scoring schools on the east coast?"

"Yes," said a smiling Helen. "I figured you'd survive well among morons, you two. But the top-scoring students in the school usually go on to earn . There's also a strong anti-bullying policy."

Daria and Quinn looked at each other. Quinn gave a defeated sigh, while Daria shrugged. "Whatever."

Helen's smile faded. _Well, at least they aren't resistant to the idea. And this means we're going to have to move. Again. Oh, great. I need to talk to Jake. Where the hell is he?_ "JAKE!"

"YAAH!" came a scream from upstairs. "I'm coming!" Mere moments later, Jake came tumbling down the stairs, his pants down around his ankles, exposing his 'Mr. Ed' themed underwear, immediately raising the spirits of his family.

-Special thanks to Dariclone.

So, this was a prequel bit that I published in segments on the PPMB many months ago, consider it a holdover until the next chapter, Satire Bites. I completed parts one and two, and I will conclude it in part three, and after I've had a few people read it, it will show up on this site.


	14. A Revelation Inside a Plant&Announcement

**Six Years Earlier**

The cafeteria milk cartons were catapulted into the air, their contents spilling onto their target(s): two conjoined girls with brown hair and glasses sitting on a bench outside of Mrs. Sheary's classroom, one of whom was reading "Odds On" by John Lange, while the other grasped a small piece of fabric for comfort.

"Freak!"

"Eight-eyes!"

"Loser 1 and Loser 2!"

While the taunts bounced off the girl controlling the right side of their body, the girl on the left side started crying.

The right head head sighed. "Wanna go to 'The Fort' Quinn?"

The left head nodded. "Okay," she choked. Her leg trembling, she and Daria made their way to a secret place called 'The Fort:' a clump of bushes on the hill overlooking the school's field. Daria and Quinn crawled inside it; there was a space large enough for them to sit in. It was Daria's place to think in peace, and for Quinn it was where she could cry as much as she felt was necessary, which is what she started doing now.

Daria sighed at her sister's despair and took Quinn's glasses to wipe them on their shirt. "You know, Quinn, chances are all those idiots go to Mr. Wehrung's class." Alex Wehrung was feared among the school for his iron discipline, which ironically created more delinquents.

Quinn sobbed harder, grasping her milk-soaked hair. "Gee, thanks for the info." She went back to weeping, over the taunting, over a lack of friends, over the teasing.

_Well, that was a bust. _She tried again, "Uh, it's okay, Quinn. I promise things will get better."

Quinn wiped her nose with her palm and stared blankly at the ground. "Yeah, right."

"No, it wi-"

"I hate this. I hate them. I hate the teachers. I hate myself. I hate everything. I want to die."

Even this took Daria aback somewhat. "Couldn't you channel that hate into fractions? We'd get them done a lot faster."

Quinn slammed her fist down into the ground. "It's all a big joke to you! You like being a freak! You like having no friends! I hate it! I want to be on my own and do what I want to do!"

Daria, struggling to come up with a solution to assuaging her sister's misery, to her own surprise found herself stroking her twin's hair. "It'll be all right in the end, Quinn. I promise."

Quinn slapped her sister's hand away. "You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not." Daria took off her own glasses and gave her sister a hard stare. "Quinn, I'm not happy about this either. But I promise that I will always help you."

Quinn snorted. "Like you have a choice."

"I mean it, Quinn. I'll do anything I can to make this better for you."

Quinn finally looked up at her sister again. "Do you promise?"

Daria nodded. "We did make an oath, remember?"

Quinn smiled. "Yeah, we did." She turned her head away and stared at the clouds. "We really are stuck with each other, aren't we?" she asked if just realizing if for the first time.

"Pretty much."

For a while they just sat there, saying nothing. Eventually Quinn took a breath and put her glasses back on. "Okay, I'm ready to go back."

-Guess what? I FINALLY got the next chapter done! I've been working on it on-and-off since March! And it's done! Yay! And it's the longest chapter yet, it comes around to about 6800 words. Thank you all for being so patient, the next chapter will be on here soon, I just need it to be beta-read. YAHOO!


	15. The Last One

"Why do you always follow me, Daria?" Quinn joked as she and her sister walked towards Lawndale High

"I'd say your magnetic personality, but then I'd have to punch myself for that one," Daria replied. "So, might as well ask now, what do you want for your birthday?"

Quinn gave a frown. "Honestly, I just want to forget that the last week even happened." She sighed and shrugged her shoulder. "Realistically, I wouldn't mind a pin cushion. Then again, I could probably borrow one from Gage. Yourself?"

Daria thought for a moment. "Hm, perhaps that new punk album that came out...what was it called? Inside the Grass?"

"Hm..." Quinn snapped her fingers. "In the Grass, that's it. Who made that album?"

"Someone with a lot of cardboard."

In mock frustration, Quinn put her hand up to her forehead and said, "I meant the band."

"Probably some underdog group that will fade into obscurity."

"Probably."

As they walked onto the campus, three boys rushed passed them and approached the Fashion Club, and immediately began to kiss their butts (not literally, you sicko).

Quinn eyed them with some distaste. "Stuck-up bimbos, having bores act like chauffers for them."

"You wanted to join them,"

"And it was their loss for not accepting me," Quinn affirmed. She gave them a dirty look and turned her head away.

Daria went, 'Huh.' "Your self-esteem has gone through a significant, positive change. Should I be concerned?"

Quinn shook her head, waving some strands of her hair into Daria's face. "Ack! Watch it!"

"Sorry." They reached their locker, which still had a dent from where Tommy Sherman had been learning on it. "Hey Daria," Quinn asked as her sister withdrew their textbooks. "You never did follow up on the whole thing about the equality pact. Any kind of club or group you want to join?"

Daria handed Quinn a pencil-case to hold. "Not particularly."

"Well, what about the school paper?"

Daria turned to Quinn, looking a little skeptic. "It's crossed my mind, but it's not at the top of my list. Do you want to join the paper?"

"Well, I'd be willing to try it out, and I know you like writing so much. I admit, I'm not as good as you, but I'd definitely be willing to write a fashion column."

Daria contemplatively rubbed her chin. "That...I could live with. Hell, the two of us together, we'd practically end up running the thing. I'll think about it."

"It'd probably cheer up Dad, too, since he lost that client and everything," Quinn added. "He just looked so miserable, I think anything'd make him happy at this point."

"Do I get anything out of cheering him up?"

Quinn frowned in slight disbelief. "Uh, the idea that you made Dad happy out of the goodness of your heart?

Daria looked down at her chest. "I thought that I'd gotten rid of that damn thing last spring."

Rolling her eyes, Quinn got Daria and herself to start walking off. "Let's just get to class, and we can talk about it later."

XXXX

Ms. Defoe slowly walked past her students' work, examining every fine detail. Passing the twins, who were taking turns painting and holding up the pallet, she smiled and gave an approving at their still life. "Very good, Daria, Quinn."

"Thanks, Ms. Defoe," Quinn smiled.

Their teacher moved on to Brittany's painting, and wasn't sure what she was seeing was real. "Brittany, did you spill your paint again?"

She looked confused. "Um, no?" Brittany picked up her brown bottle of paint and held it upside down to see if it was all still there, and the result ended up on her uniform. She was about to squeal at herself angrily when Li and O'Neill walked in.

"Is this a good time, Ms. Defoe?" O'Neill asked softly.

Nodding, she replied, "Yes, come on in." She turned back to her students. "Class, Ms. Li and Mr. O'Neill have some intriguing news."

Raising her arms dramatically and pumping her fists, Li announced, "Laaaawndale High, is participating in a state-wide art contest."

O'Neill pointed his finger upward dramatically. "That's why we chose an art class to be the place to announce it!"

_Where else would you announce it? The cafeteria?_ Quinn thought.

Li continued, "The theme of the contest is 'Student Life at the Dawn of the Millenium.'"

"What's it like to be a high school student in today's fast changing world?" O'Neill asked rhetorically.

"When the world starts changing this side of the hemisphere, let us now," Daria said under her breath.

"Entry is strictly voluntary, of course," Li went on, "Although frankly, I don't see how any of you could think of passing up the chance to bring honor unto yourself and Laaaaawndale High."

Picking up on a misuse of grammar, Jane questioned, "Unto?"

"Buckle my only shoe," Daria added.

"Ms. Defoe will choose the entries from each art class, and I'm contest coordinator for the school. Good luck, kids!" O'Neill gave a warm smile that tried to be encouraging as well, but came off as more than a little TOO enthusiastic.

"Students, I urge you to take this opportunity." Li spoke more slowly for added emphasis now. "Curiosity... inquiry... expression... these are the building blocks of education."

Brittany raised her hand. "Um, ma'am?"

Li waved her hand. "No questions! Good luck, all!" She and O'Neill exited the classroom right as the bell rang.

"I wanted to tell her I've got a great idea for a poster!" Brittany whined.

As the twins packed away their supplies, Daria said, "Me too. Mine's going to be about cheerleading."

Brittany gaped and stamped her foot. "Oh no! Now what'll I do?"

Kevin walked up to Brittany and put his hand on her shoulder. "How about something on quarterbacks, babe?"

"Sorry Kevin," Quinn interjected. She pointed her thumb at herself. "I'm doing that."

"Aww man!"

After Brittany and Kevin stalked off, Daria, Quinn, and Jane were stopped by Defoe, who summoned them to her desk.

"Daria, Jane, Quinn. I'm truly eager to see what all the students come up for with this contest. Especially you three, given your talents."

Jane said, "All the students who choose to participate."

"Which probably won't be that many," Quinn pointed out.

Defoe shrugged. "But I really, really want to see all of your entries."

Jane shifted somewhat uncomfortably. "Well, you know, I really don't think artists should compete with each other, especially if they happen to be good friends." She moved her eyes at the twins suggestively.

"Hm, I'm sorry, I didn't think of that. What I'm getting at here is that the three of you are truly accomplished in your works, and I think you could all make a fantastic piece. You could all cooperate on it! I'd love to see that. Really, I would."

The three girls all gave a begrudging and somewhat anxious, "Great, thanks."

XXXX

"Dammit!" cursed Jane as the three walked home. "Why'd she have to be complimentary?"

"Now we all have to make something nice, or we'll not only look like jerks, but unaccomplished jerks," Quinn noted. "Student life...you do homework, sleep in class, and get dysentery from the crap they serve up in the cafeteria."

Daria prompted herself and her twin to stop. "You know, you have a point there, Quinn. They didn't say anything about the message being positive."

Jane said, "You know, you two've been to three other high schools. You've probably got one hell of a perspective."

"I do. I do indeed," Daria said with a tinge of fake menace.

"There's a lot of dark, depressing stuff we could get into," Quinn said.

The twins had the following exchange: "We'll show how much it sucks to be in high-school."

"Yes."

"Show the gritty, dirty reality of what it's like to be the odd one out."

"Yes. About how nonconformity will ultimately get you nothing but agitation and misery."

Jane smiled. "Sounds like a damn good idea."

Daria and Quinn both turned their heads to meet Jane's. "And you," Daria pointed at her. "You're going to bring these dirty realities of ours to life."

Jane paled. "Um...no?"

XXXX

Daria and Quinn handed each other pieces of pizza, as Jane tapped her notepad with a pencil. After a moment, Jane tilted her head up to the twins. "Nothing?"

Daria shrugged. "Quinn's the one with PTSD, don't look at me."

"I do not have PTSD."

"Well, you're certainly not the bubbliest kid around," Daria replied.

"So, I guess I'm supposed to be the lone source of creativity here?" she gave Daria a knowing smile. "I never thought you had a lack of imagination, sis."

Daria turned and made a 'pbbbbbb' sound with her tongue in Quinn's direction. Quinn slapped at the right side of her face and went, "Eeeeeeeeew!"

Jane yawned. "This is very entertaining and all, but we need to come up with something here before I fall asleep, and at some point, I have to go home to make sure Zach and Taylor haven't peed on Trent in his sleep."

Daria glanced at the soda machine in the corner of the restaurant. "Could a few free sodas convince you to stay?"

Jane shook her soda cup. There was a sound of rattling ice cubes. "I guess I could be persuaded."

Daria handed her a bill to pay for a re-fill. As Jane went to pay, Quinn said, "What about ostracization? That's a relevant topic."

"Quinn, I like being ostracized," Daria said.

Quinn stroked her chin. "Are you implying you like being attached to me?"

Daria shook her head. "Not particularly. You snore."

Quinn was taken aback. "I do not!" she squeaked.

"Yes you do. Big, dry heaves." Daria grinned at Quinn's shocked expression, and continued, "Regardless, me contributing to a project I do not support would not end well."

"So, you want to just quit outright?" Jane asked as she sat down again.

"And I thought I was the optimist of the group," Daria quipped. She beckoned to Jane. "Can I borrow that pencil?" Jane handed it over, and Daria began to chew on the eraser, much to Jane's chagrin.

"Well, I think we're going to need more soda," Quinn said. "We're getting tuckered out, here."

"You mind getting us some more of that good ol' mountain dew, grandpa?" Daria asked Jane in a fake southern accent.

XXXX

"How about something revolving the persecution of homosexuals?" Quinn said, her hand trembling from all the caffeine.

"Well, there definitely isn't anything wrong with that," Daria affirmed, "But I don't think anyone's going to look at that; they'll either deny that the problem exists or they'll deny that….." Daria caught herself. She held up her plastic cup and regarded it with curiosity. "Man, we ought to slip Dad one of these."

"Can we get back on topic, please?" Jane asked. Her notes were steadily becoming more and more erratic, in structure and in handwriting.

XXXX

"You know, the rain forest is still being cut down," said a wide-eyed Quinn, who eagerly took another sip of her drink.

Daria tiredly reached under her glasses to rub her eyes. "Quinn, what the hell does that have to do with the school?"

"Absolutely nothing, can we go home now? We really, really have to pee."

"Yeah, we do."

"Spare me the gory details," Jane said.

XXXX

Quinn groaned. "It's no good, I'll never make it. Oh, why couldn't we get mom to come get us?"

"Because," Daria said through gritted teeth, "Mom is working late tonight."

Jane also felt a need for a leak, and the pit-pat sounds of the late-night sprinklers were a torturous reminder of that. She thought to herself, _Shrubbery never seemed more inviting._

"Daria, let's go to Gage's house before we have to do something drastic, like use a public restroom."

Daria nodded. "Let's just hope he's still awake."

XXXX

Daria rang the bell. Ten seconds passed. Nothing. "Quinn, if anything happens; I just want you to know I always loved you."

Jane smirked. "Calm down, you'll both get through this."

The door opened. A stranger dressed in a long, fuzzy black bathrobe stood before them. He parted his hair, which covered the front of his face like a veil. "Uh, Quinn, Daria, and, uh, sorry, I know we've met before…"

"Jane," she said.

"Jane," Gage said. "Why have you come to my house at nine o'clock in the night?" His expression turned to nervousness. "You're not checking on whether or not I've bought you a present yet, have you?"

"No," Quinn said. She squinted. "Have you?"

"Well..."

"Harris, please, we need to use your toilet, it's a matter of life and death," Daria said.

The muscles under Gage's concealed eye twitched at being addressed like this, but he beckoned them inside. "Only one bathroom, it's next to my bedroom. Just try to be quiet, my grandpa's sleeping."

Daria and Quinn practically sprinted up the stairs.

Jane looked at Gage. "So, you're into designing clothing, huh?"

"Yup," he replied. He stared off into space.

When he did not offer up further explanation, Jane asked, "You do any business?"

Gage re-established eye contact. "A little. I used to go to Fielding Prep; I did a little business on the side. Some of the students who I used to tailor for still send in an order or request every so often. I mostly use the money for drugs." Jane's eyes widened. Gage held up his hands. "Only kidding."

"Ah. I'm an artist myself."

Gage cocked his head, his interest piqued. "Your medium?"

"Painting, drawing, and the occasional sculpture. Never thought about selling, though. Is it hard?"

Gage shrugged. "For me, it was all word of mouth; I never put in an ad or anything. I don't think I'd want to, anyways."

There was a prolonged silence between them. Eventually, Gage said, "Jeez, how much did they drink?"

"Five large ultra-colas."

"Woah."

Another silence. At some point, Jane asked, "So. You. Quinn. What's happening there?"

Gage turned a slight pink. "Um, I don't really know." He frowned. "Why do you ask?"

Slightly embarrassed, Jane hastily said, "Just curious."

_And I thought_ I _was awkward_, Gage thought.

Daria and Quinn descended the stairs. "Oh, thank Christ," Jane said. She ran up the stairs even faster than they had.

"So, you two talk about much?" Quinn inquired.

Gage shook his head. "Not really." He took a couple of lawn chairs that were lying in the corner and gave one to the twins, and used the other for him. Gage sat down, and blinked tiredly. "So, whatcha been up to?"

"Our art teacher guilt-tripped us into creating something for an art exhibition," Daria explained. "Our consumption of copious amounts of soda was in an effort to obtain enough energy to come up with a decent idea. Instead, we came up with full bladders."

"Well, what have you got so far?" Gage asked.

"We were talking about social ostracization at one point," Quinn said. "But we haven't come up with much else since."

Gage hunched over and supported his head in one hand. After allowing himself a few moments to think, he said, "Well, people get rejected from groups because they're different, you could do something about variety, maybe."

The twins recalled how they had been snubbed by the Fashion Club. "That's certainly a possibility," Daria said. She looked at Quinn. "Something about all kinds of people of all creeds and nations coming together and….my God is that cheesy."

"Yeah," Quinn agreed. She ran her hands through her hair and grabbed at loose strands, tugging at the roots. "God, this is stressing me out…" her face lit up. "Wait, I think I got something!" she whispered her idea into Daria's ear.

Daria looked her sister, actually impressed. "Well," she said. "Eureka."

Jane came down the stairs, looking much more comfortable. "Well, I say we call it a night."

Daria waved her over, and told her the Quinn's idea. Jane nearly gaped. "Wow," she said. "I've got to get started on that!"

XXXX

Daria and Quinn applied some finishing touches to Jane's painting as Defoe approached. "You think she'll like it?" Quinn asked.

"If she doesn't, remind me to groan in defeat later," Daria replied.

"All right, let's see what we have here," Defoe said. She started at the trio's poster for a few moments, then stepped back, her hand over her heart. "Oh, Quinn, Daria, Jane," she breathed, "There are no words. This is incredible, how did you come up with this?"

"We had a little outside help," Quinn said.

Daria hissed, "Quiet."

Defoe did not seem to care. Her hand had moved from over her chest to her mouth. "This is absolutely beautiful, a true testament to what it's to be a teen, I remember when I got my..." She tore her eyes away and smiled eagerly at the trio. "You have to let me enter this in the contest, I am sure it shall win the art contest."

Jane threw up her hands in mock surrender. "There's no arguing with the art teacher."

XXXX

"Boy, she really wasn't exaggerating," Jane said, watching their poster being swarmed by parents, students, and judges alike from the safety of the snack table. "It looks like we have a good chance."

"I don't think we've ever won a prize before," Quinn said. She smiled at the idea. "I have dibs if we win it."

"Hey!" Jane protested. "I did most of the work, what consolation do I get?"

"You get to say you're our friend," Daria said. "It will be quite beneficial in the future, when we have taken over the planet and turned everyone into Cybermen. You will be our chauffeuse."

Jane was about to reply, but there was a polite, "Hey guys."

They turned. It was Jodie.

"I really like your poster; I think it speaks to everyone."

"Thanks," Jane said. "I just have a question Jodie. Why are there a bunch of security guards all over the place?"

Jodie gave a light laugh. "A couple years back, three people, all of whom wore business suits, broke in and replaced all the art with pictures of Ms. Li's face on porno. I think that's why she's always so crabby. I'll tell you the rest of the details later, I have to go reassure all the other contestants they have a chance against you three. Bye." She walked over to a weeping Brittany and began to console her.

"So, you two want to come over to my house for a victory toast?" Jane asked. "I can make a mean screwdriver. Non-alcoholic, of course."

Daria said, "I'm not sure that's poss-oh no."

O'Neill approached, holding a handkerchief to his eyes. In a rather weak voice, he said, "Daria, Jane, Quinn, that was the most touching, emotional piece of artwork I've ever seen in my entire life. I have never been touched this way before."

"We'll take that as a compliment," Daria said flatly.

O'Neill took a breath and momentarily stopped weeping to say, "And I intend to send your picture to the final round of the art contest, whether it wins here or not." He began to cry again.

"Um, Mr. O'Neill, do you need a hug?" Quinn asked. Daria vehemently shook her head in disapproval, but O'Neill nodded. Quinn gave him a half-hug, as Daria was not willing to cooperate. After this, O'Neill walked away.

"Well, that was very, very disturbing," Daria said. She spied the exit. "Now let's get the hell out before someone else suffers an emotional breakdown."

Jane and Quinn nodded in agreement. Suddenly, the chatter of the room became louder, and the three saw why: a small team of news reporters had entered the room.

"Run," Daria said. It was too late; they were quickly surrounded, by the camera crew and spectators alike. A blond woman holding a microphone stepped in front of the camera and said, "I'm Megan Kellogg, and I'm here with Daria and Quinn Morgendorffer, creators of the esteemed picture, 'The Last One.'" The camera focused on the twins. "Tell me girls, how'd you come up with this picture by yourselves?"

Quinn took a single look at all the eyes being cast on her and shrunk a little. Daria said to Kellogg, "We came up with it with our minds. That's how you usually do it."

Kellogg frowned. She asked, "Well, how do you feel that your picture is getting so much attention?"

Daria shrugged.

"Do you feel that it's getting this much attention because it was created by a conjoined twin?"

There were a few gasps in the crowd. Daria's expression darkened. "I feel that it's getting this much attention because it's thought provoking and enlightening. Although, it doesn't seem to work on news reporters."

Kellogg glared at Daria. She was about to reply, but she suddenly let out a pained yelp instead.

A girl with mousy-brown hair walked in front of the camera and took a cookie from the table and ate it. Then, she decided to stand between the twins and Jane, and looked quite bored. "Don't you hate group affairs?" she asked Jane.

Kellogg growled, "Young lady, can't you see that you're in front of a live news broadcast?"

The girl held up the white and red cane she had whacked Kellogg in the back of the leg with. "No, actually."

Kellogg's eyes widened. Her cameraman whispered to her. Kellogg stood in front of the camera again, "We'll be right back, after these messages." She gave the girls an icy glare and walked away. The spectators also awkwardly shuffled off.

The brown-haired girl took a chocolate truffle from the table and popped it in her mouth. "And that, ladies and gents, it's done."

Jane stared after Kellogg in amazement. "What the hell was that?"

"In case you didn't know," said Gage, who had materialized beside the twins, "Your principle has a history of exploitation. Me and my bud here came to see your poster, and we saw the news van. Well, I put two and two together, and we decided to rescue you guys."

Daria extended her hand to the brown-haired girl. "Daria Morgendorffer, pleased for the rescue. May I shake your hand?"

The girl did so. "Michelle Smith, glad to be of help. I'd talk more, but I want to go and look at your poster again."

"So, you're not completely blind?" Jane asked.

"No," she replied, leaving it at that.

After she left, Quinn asked Gage, "Where do you know her from?"

"She and I were part of this club at Fielding, she wanted to come see the art." Gage bit his lip in concern. "By the way, do any of you know what happens to the winners? When they become finalists?"

They shook their heads.

"They and their art get flown to Washington for the final judging, where you'll have to display your work in front of lots of people. Least the art association pays for the whole thing. And fair warning: I knew some people from Fielding who went there, they came back looking kinda shell-shocked."

Daria and Quinn exchanged glances. "Do you want to withdraw?" Daria asked Quinn.

Quinn turned back to Gage. "How many people do you have to present it to?"

"Hundreds."

"No way, not doing that," Quinn said firmly.

Jane and the twins tried to move through the crowd to get to their art, but a rather-disgruntled looking Li accosted them. "Ms. Morgendorffer, Ms. Morgendorffer, Ms. Lane, congratulations, the judges and I-"

She was cut off by three simultaneous groans.

XXXX

"So," Jane said as she, the twins, Gage, and Michelle left. "We've been officially drafted into going on our nation's capital for free. Decisions, decisions."

"Hundreds," Quinn whispered in terror. "Hundreds."

"If you want," said Michelle, "I could pretend to be you two and present it for you. I don't get stage fright." She wiggled her fingers in front of her eyes. "Course, I'd need a new head."

Quinn gave a small laugh. Jane addressed Gage and Michelle. "So, these kids from Fielding who presented. Did they win?"

"No," Gage admitted. "You go up against some of the most talented students from around the country. Some of them are from private institutions focused exclusively on art."

"Then what's the point if we go?" Daria pondered.

"Hey, I thought your picture was awesome," said Michelle. "It was really, really awesome. It even got me a little spooked."

"Spooked?" Quinn frowned.

"Well, emotional, I'll put it like that. I'm serious, you two should go!" Michelle stopped walking and moved her watch up to her eye. "Aw man. Sorry guys, I have to go. I promised Karis I'd help her with her homework."

"I'll come with you," Gage offered. "My house is on the way back anyways."

"Thanks." Michelle smiled. "Again, nice meeting you three."

"You too," said the twins and Jane.

After they'd left, Jane asked the obvious question: "Well, do you two want to go?"

Daria thought about it. She considered Quinn's fear of crowds, but also the chance to present a project in the nation's capital. "If I had my way, we'd be gone in an instant. But we gotta consider the red-head here. Quinn?"

Quinn bit her lip: crowds. BIG crowds. But it wasn't fair to make Daria stay just because she was afraid. She swallowed and reluctantly said, "Okay."

"Great," said Daria. "Jane? You want to come?"

"Well, when's the date?"

"I think it's next weekend."

Jane sadly shook her head. "Can't."

"What? Why not?" Quinn exclaimed.

"I have an appointment with Barch to make up a science-test."

"Blow it off?"

"I flunk the first quarter if I don't take the make-up."

"Well," Daria said. "That sucks."

"You two have got to go, though. I'd never forgive myself if something I….sorry, we drew wasn't displayed for all to see at the biggest soap-box in the world."

"We'll send you a post-card," Daria smirked. "And here's hoping we don't get swarmed by a blood-thirsty reporter again."

**One Week Later**

"Did I ever mention I really, REALLY hate planes?" Quinn moaned as her fingers dug into the underside of her arm-rest.

Daria, who uncomfortably sat on a woolen blanket covering the metal space between Quinn's seat and Jake's, gave a yawn. "Only about five times within the last twenty minutes." She uncomfortably pulled at the seat belts that crossed their midsection and chest. "However, my reason for detesting aviation is better than yours."

Quinn laughed nervously. "And that is?"

Daria tugged at the belts again. "Besides the constricting arrangements, the reading material is bad enough to put ME to sleep." She procured a mall catalog from the pocket of the seat in front of them to make her point.

Their father, to their mutual amazement, had fallen asleep listening to the Rolling Stones tape on his portable CD-player. "Wish I could be that relaxed," Quinn sighed.

Daria fiddled with the controls for their television on her arm-rest. "Let's see if rotting your brain will help to ease your anxiety."

"I'd bet you anesthesiologists wished they could do that."

The T.V. flickered to life. To Daria's both surprise and pleasure, Sick Sad World was playing.

_Are more and more Michael Crichton novels coming true?_ An image of a plane rapidly rising and descending through the clouds appeared. _What a FRIGHTENING thought! More next, on Sick, Sad World! _

Daria turned off the television and glanced at Quinn. Her twin's eyes looked as though they were trying to squeeze their way out of their own sockets. In fact, she was so paralyzed that when they finally took off after a half-hour delay, Quinn completely forgot to scream.

XXXX

"Here we are, kids!" Jake exclaimed as they exited the terminal and they were greeted with the archetypal white buildings. "Our nation's capital!"

"Keep your voice down, Dad," Daria said. She regarded her father's choice of dress including a floral shirt, shorts, and a sun-hat with barely-concealed disdain. "Before the secret service agents coming swarming down on us."

"Aw, they wouldn't do that to me, kiddo!" Jake said. "You know Bill!"

"We don't know him personally, dad," Quinn reminded him as they started to heft their collective luggage into a cab. "We just got to ask him a couple questions before we started fighting the dynamic duo over the microphone."

"You came here back in the sixties, right dad?" Daria asked. She closed the cab door after Jake climbed inside and sat next to her. He gave directions to the driver for a hotel.

"Uh, yeah. Me and a few friends, we uh, tried to, uh, levitate the Pentagon."

Quinn laughed, and Jake frowned. "And how did that go?" Daria inquired.

"Not well," her father admitted sheepishly. "Although I think the guy next to me had an aneurysm while we tried, so, at least we got something!"

"Possibly fatal neurological traumas are better than no results," Daria quipped.

Quinn opened her duffel bag and pulled out the clear cylindrical tube that held their poster. "It's fine Quinn," her neighboring head reassured hair again.

"I just want to be sure," Quinn said. "You can never be too sure. Or careful."

"If you were careful, you'd have avoided eating food supplied by dad."

Jake looked indignant. "Aw, c'mon, Daria! It's not like I poisoned you two on purpose!"

"Whatever you say, Mr. Jones."

"Who's Mr. Jones?" both her father and her sister inquired.

XXXX

"Doesn't look too bad," Quinn remarked on the hotel. It was a three-story Hyatt hotel, with a stone fountain in the front courtyard.  
"Best your mother and I could afford for this trip," Jake explained. "I got us a specialized room-"

"Again?" both Quinn and Daria groaned. On the rare occasion they went on vacation, their ever-cautious parents made sure to book rooms with special life-saving equipment, which included such things as gas masks, injectors, and a half-dozen first-aid kits.

"When are you and mom going to realize we're not fragile?" Quinn bemoaned as she and her twin got out of the car.

Jake went, "Uuuuhhhhhh….."

"He has a point," Daria noted. She and Quinn adjusted their backpack into a more suitable position, and they hauled their luggage to the hotel.

Inside the lobby, Jake confirmed his registration with the hotel. A tall bespectacled bellhop took their bags and escorted them to their room: a double-bed suite with a wide-screen TV and a closet. Sure enough, several first-aid kits were lined up on a shelf bolted into the wall. There was even a fire axe right below them.

When the bellhop held his hand out in expectation of a tip, Jake gave him a low-five instead. "Keep it in the groove, man!" he said with a grin. The bellhop looked confused.

After Jake went to the bathroom, the twins stepped forward and handed him a five. "Trust us," Daria said, "His special needs are much greater than ours."

"I'll take your word for it," the bell-hop replied in an Irish accent. Once he had gone, Daria and Quinn relaxed on the sofa. "So, what do you want to do?" Quinn asked. She pointed to the TV remote sitting on the coffee table in front of them. "Want to see if this place gets LTV?"

"I suppose."

They had barely watched half a music video before Quinn started to pant. Looking at her sister, Daria could see that Quinn was stressed out; a couple beads of sweat were trickling down her forehead.

"What's wrong?"

Quinn gave Daria a desperate look. "I can't do this, Daria. Not in front of all those people."

Daria's eyes narrowed. "Well, it's a bit late to be saying that _now_."

Eyes darting to the tube holding their poster, Quinn whispered, "What if it isn't good enough? What if they laugh at us, and we'll be humiliated and mom will hate us and-"

"Quinn, I'm citing our qui-pro-quo thing here. Remember that I said you owed me one? Well, I want you to shut. Up."

Quinn went silent. She looked pleadingly at her sister. It was a look Daria was familiar with: the look of desperation and self-doubt that she had seen too many times when they were growing up, a look that suggested a complete lack of confidence. _She really_ does _have no self-esteem. That's…sad._

"Look, how about this. I'll do all the talking, and you can smile and look like you're happy to be there. And you can reveal the poster. That sound good?"

Quinn's breathing relaxed. She gave a thankful smile. "Thanks Daria."

"Yeah, sure. Just don't do any fancy flourish or anything; I don't want to fall over or anything."

"Got it."

Figuring that they had nothing left to talk about, they went back to watching television. Sick Sad World was running a special about vampires being run over by bicyclists.

"Hey, isn't tomorrow our birthday?" Daria asked.

"Oh yeah, it is! So, what did you get me?"

"A one-way ticket out of embarrassment."

Quinn pouted playfully. "Awww maaan. I wanted a pooony."

"All right. Maybe I'll get you one with a dress tattooed on its butt."

"Pfft, that's dumb."

"Well, excuse me for creativity."

XXXX

The clock's alarm turned to a classical music station, playing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Daria groaned, rubbing her eyes with her hand. "It's like they want us to fall back asleep." She slapped the clock with her palm and poked the cheekbone of her sleeping neighbor. "Hey. Rise and shine, it's the day."

Quinn almost shot up in bed, but remembered that would not be pleasant for Daria. "Oh no, oh no, oh no-"

"Quinn, just remember what I told you. Okay? I'll take care of it."

Quinn looked away and gave an almost mournful sigh. _Again with the drama?_ "Quinn, I promise, it's-"

"It's not that, Daria."

"I know it's is not that. They are two completely separate words with different connotations."

Rolling her eyes at the bad joke, Quinn said, "I'm just upset that you have to keep protecting me. You've done all these nice things for me, and I haven't gotten any braver."

"It's not going to happen when you wake up one morning."

"It hasn't happened in the past sixteen years, either."

"What do you expect to happen?"

"I don't know! Something! I'm sick of being afraid of everything! I'm sick of not having any….uh…."

"Balls? Guts? Cancellous bone?"

"Ick, no. I just want…I wish I could be more like you."

"Then why do you try your best to not look like me?"

"I don't want to be _exactly_ like you, Daria. You're not THAT amazing."

"Thanks."

"I want…to be brave, I guess. Not sure there's a better word for it."

"Well, you've made a bit of progress."

"Huh?" Quinn looked back at Daria.

"This is the first time you've ever blamed your problems on yourself, not us. And by us, I mean this." She indicated their fused body. A ghost of a smile appeared on Daria's face. "Quinn, you've just admitted you're flawed. That in itself takes guts."

Quinn shrugged. "Not really."

"Well, it's a start." She peeked past Quinn to look at the snoring Jake, who rested on the neighboring bed, a baby-blue blindfold over his eyes. "So, you want to wake him up so we can get a move on?"

Reaching for a wadded up ball of paper, Quinn said incredulously, "I can't believe he didn't hear any of that." She threw the ball at their father.

"YAAGH! Sergeant Hartman, it wasn't my donut!"

"He's moved on to Kubrick," Daria noted dryly.

XXXX

Jake pulled the car into the far end of the campus parking lot. He helped his daughters get out of the car and stretched his arms. He pointed at the college about a half-mile away that was hosting the convention. "There it is, kids! Lynn University!"

"Never heard of it," Quinn said.

"I remember the last time I was here," Jake reminisced. "I lost my v-" he stopped and tried not to look at his daughters. "My v-vicadin prescription!" He laughed nervously.

"Mind getting our tube for us, dad?" Daria asked, trying in vain to flush the implication of the aborted sentence from her mind.

Jake awkwardly stopped laughing and said quickly, "Sure, kiddo." He opened the trunk and retrieved their poster.

"All right," Daria said, "Let's head 'em up and move 'em out." She looked at Quinn. "Remind me never to say that again."

"Roger."

XXXX

Inside the main hallway were hundreds of students and their parents, all scurrying around and talking to someone. Some kids had their posters on display on easels. Others were gushing to old men in suits, judges, the twins guessed. The artists were all wearing very formal clothing, which made Quinn a little uncomfortable, as the twins were wearing a large leather duster jacket, but she put that feeling aside.

She looked at the posters. One was a picture of a jock flexing in front of a mirror. A piece of paper was taped to the bottom.

Jake wiped his eyes at the image of a girl crying while looking at a picture of herself holding a kitten.

Daria arched an eyebrow at a black-and-white pastel of a naked child huddled into a corner, weeping. _How the hell did_ that _get permitted?_ Then she saw who was standing beside the poster. Her eyes widened excitedly.

She prodded Quinn. "Hey, look who it is." She pointed out the girl next to the poster.

Quinn gasped. "Cassandra!"

Their former Highland classmate hadn't seen them yet; she smiled and bowed politely to passer-by who glanced at her poster. Her eyes brightened at the sight of the twins.

"Daria! Quinn!" she ran from her poster and hugged them both.

"Wow! It's so nice to see you!" Quinn enthused.

"Erp," went Daria.

Cassandra let go. Still smiling from ear to ear, she said happily, "I'm so glad you're both here! What an amazing coincidence! Wow! How are you both? How's Lawndale?"

"They thankfully lack uranium in their drinking water," Daria said. On that topic, she asked, genuinely curious, "So, how are Beavis and Butt-Head, just to get it out of the way?"

"They got held back," Cassandra said in a tone that curiously expressed both sorrow and relief. "Nobody's real happy about that, as you can probably guess."

"Thought so," Quinn said. Cautiously, she asked, "Hey, has, um, everything turned out all right with your family?"

Cassandra's looked at the floor, as though she did not want to answer the question. But she looked back and said, a small but somber smile on her lips, "I'm with a foster family now."

"That's great!" Quinn cried happily. Even Daria smiled.

"Good for you," she said. She turned her attention back to Cassandra's poster, which was titled, _Hell is for Children_. "So, you made it after all," she noted, recalling the conversations at the group therapy sessions at Highland High.

"Yes, I hoped to express my childhood with this piece. I showed it to Mr. VanDriessen. It made him cry."

_Doesn't take much,_ Daria thought. "Wow," she said to be nice. "I'm glad that you're able to be more expressive again."

"Me too! Oh, what did you two make, I'd love to see it!"

"Well," Quinn said. "We came up with the idea, but a friend of us painted it with us. She couldn't come," she explained.

"Oh, that's too bad," Cassandra said with genuine disappointment. "But may I see your poster, please?"

Daria shrugged. "Sure. Give us a minute." The twins pried it from Jake, who was mesmerized by a picture of a teen in army-like clothing, giving a thousand-yard stare.

They unfurled the poster and held it in front of Cassandra. Her hands flew up to her mouth.

"Oh…oh…..wow." Her hands fell away, but her mouth still gaped. "It's beautiful. The imagery, the atmosphere. Oh, it's lovely! Are you going to present it at the main event tonight?"

"Yeah, we're here to register it for that," Daria said. "Speaking of that, do you know where we sign up?"

Cassandra pointed down the hallway. "There's a desk, the line's not very long."

"Thanks," said Daria. She extended her hand, which Cassandra shook. "Well, good luck."

"Thank you! You too!"

After Quinn shook with Cassandra too, the twins walked down the hall to the desk. Quinn noticed that a lot of people were staring at them, some with horror, and others with surprise. _Nothing new. _

Suddenly, a thought came to her. "Hey, Daria."

"Hey, Quinn."

"Ha. I was just thinking. What if we win, and it's just because we're conjoined?"

"Could happen. But we're going to make clear this was a collaborative effort with Jane, so that should quickly make us look sad and pathetic again."

"Point."

XXXX

A while later, Quinn and Daria sat in a small café at the National Mall. Jake had stayed behind in the car to guard the poster and read a book. The twins each slurped at a boll of soup. When they were almost done, Daria called over a waiter and asked for two cupcakes with candles.

"Wow!" Quinn exclaimed as the waiter left to fulfill their order. "I almost forgot!"

"I could tell. That's why I ordered the desert."

"So, what'd you get me?"

Daria reached into the pocket of the twins' jacket and pulled out a twenty, setting it on the table. "Cash."

"Oh," Quinn said, looking very disappointed.

Feeling more than a little guilty at having procured such a small present, Daria asked with an anxious tone, "What'd you get me?" _If it's a better present, I'm done for._

Reaching down into her own pocket, Quinn procured a small, rectangular piece of plastic, which she handed to Daria. "It's, um, a gift card for Pizza King."

Daria looked at Quinn. Quinn looked at Daria. They both laughed.

"We'd make terrible secret Santas," Quinn giggled.

Their cupcakes arrived, each with a small candle stuck in the middle. The waiters sang the "Happy Birthday" song to them, then the twins ate their cupcakes, then they headed back to the car. Quinn checked their watch. "We have to present in two hours." She looked down and sighed. "Wish we had something better to wear."

Daria snapped her fingers. "Oh yeah, I almost for…nah."

"What? Forgot what?"

Smiling playfully, Daria waved her hand dismissively and said, "It's nothing."

"What, tell me, tell me!"

"Okay."

"What? What?"

"….I forgot."

"Dariaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Daria covered her left ear. "All right, all right, you got me. You know that extra bag of clothes I packed? The one you said we didn't need, that I left in the car when we got to the hotel?"

"Yeah?"

"…WOAH! Easy!"

Quinn practically charged to the trunk, almost causing Daria to lose her footing. She slammed her fist onto the surface of the rental twice to get Jake to open it, which he did without needing any explanation.

She threw open the hood of the trunk, unzipped the bag, and opened it. Quinn's voice caught in her throat. "Oh….my…..oh my."

It was a red satin dress with two neck holes, about the twins' height. The upper-left side of the dress was cut away as a measure of style, and it left no sleeve.

There was a sticky-note on the dress. Quinn picked it up and read it.

_You are __**so**__ going to win this. Happy birthday!_  
-Gage

Quinn's hand trembled. She dropped the note and let out a small gasp. Wiping her eyes, she said, "Oh, that's it, I'm keeping him."

"Fine by me, I didn't feel like sharing," Daria quipped.

XXXX

Jake pulled the car up to the front entrance of Lynn University. "Good luck, girls," he said. "I'm going to go find a parking space, God knows how long that's going to take, so I'll get here as soon as I can, okay?"

"Got it," the twins replied.

As they were getting out of the car, Jake exclaimed, "Hey, Quinn!"

She cocked her head to see him. "Yeah?"

A car behind Jake honked. He shook his fist at it, then turned his attention back to Quinn. "You look beautiful."

She felt an unrestrained sense of joy inside her; she had never heard her father call her that. "Thanks Daddy."

"Yeah, thanks Daddy," Daria intoned as she looked down at their dress again.

The car behind Jake honked again. He screamed a few obscenities and sped off to find a space, narrowly avoiding hitting a blue Toyota.

Daria nodded her head at the main entrance. "Let's go and find out where we're supposed to be."

"Okee dokee, said the unnaturally cheerful Quinn. She stared off into space, a grin a yard long across her face.

Once they were inside, even more pairs of eyeballs fell upon them than before. And for once, Quinn did not feel even remotely nervous about this. She said confidently to a nearby attendant, "Hello, where do the artists go?"

The attendant pointed to a nearby door. "Through there, just follow the arrows."

"Thank you."

As they walked to the indicated door, Daria jokingly asked, "You're not going to experience some burst of confidence and start presenting for me, are you?"

Quinn shook her head. "No way, it's all you."

"All right. Let's see if we can find Cassandra…"

They reached the box exclusively for the teen artist, which was on the 2nd story balcony, a pane of glass separating them from the audience. Cassandra sat in the back row. She wore a new, baby-blue dress of silk, and she had opted for contact lenses, so she squinted at the twins when they approached her.

"I'm having some trouble seeing, but that's okay, we get a live audio feed for what's onstage," she explained. She patted the cushion of the theater-seat next to her. Daria and Quinn pulled up an arm-rest from another chair and sat in them both.

"So, how long do you think this is going to last?" Quinn asked to nobody in particular as she watched more teens file silently into the booth.

"About two hours," Cassandra estimated.

"Great," the twins groaned.

XXXX

Thus, the presentations began. Some students were able to get the judges and audience to go "Oooh" with their depictions of technologically-savvy students and teachers, others, "Ha!" with art depicting students in witty situations, while some, like Cassandra's, got the audience to successfully sniffle.

Cassandra walked into the box, smiling, breathing with triumph. "That was one of the most invigorating experiences of my life. I felt such confidence!" she confided to the twins.

"Your speech was really moving," Quinn said. "I have to admit, I choked up, even though I know the whole story."

"Thanks Quinn!" Cassandra enthused.

One of the attendees called, "Morgendorffer!"

The twins stood up. Quinn clutched their poster tube with a somewhat nervous grip. She allowed herself a couple calming breaths.

"Well, those judges aren't going to wet themselves by themselves, let's do this," Daria said.

"Good luck!" called Cassandra as they started to walk down to the stage through a dimly-lit hall.

The walk seemed to take miles. "I have to admit," Daria said, "I'm a little nervous."

"Me too," Quinn confessed. She handed Daria the poster. "I think it will be okay."

"I'll take your word for it, Optimistic Quinn."

The twins swallowed. "No wonder Gage said kids going nuts from this," Quinn thought. "The pressure."

Daria began to whistle the Queen tune, but stopped when they could see a light ahead of them.

"Here we go," Daria said.

They walked onstage. The crowd immediately began to murmur at the sight of the twins. Then applause.

_Ah, the special treatment. This will be an easy crowd to win over,_ Daria mused.

The twins took their place at the microphone. Daria cleared her throat. "My name is Daria Morgendorrfer. This is my sister Quinn. And I'm not sure this dress is big enough for the two of us." That brought some laughs out of the audience. "We started the initial contest from the suggestion of our teachers, Claire DeFoe," she continued, "and we were able to come up with the idea for the poster with the help of our friends Gage Thystun and Jane Lane. Jane painted most of the poster, but she couldn't be here tonight.

"The work's title is 'The Last One.'"

Taking the tube, Daria unscrewed the cap, which she handed to Quinn. The twins walked up to the easel that stood nearby, and spread the poster on it, keeping it in place with clothes-line pins.

The twins hesitated to turn around, fearing the audience might look upon their work in derision.

The judges looked over the picture: a black and white, almost photo-realistic drawing of someone sitting at a messy and disorganized desk. The dim lighting made it difficult to tell whether it was a boy or girl. The figure was hunched over, almost as though they were in pain. One hand clutched the arm-rest of their chair, while the other clutched a letter. Nearby, a small pile of open and discarded letters sat in a pile.

One of the judges squinted at the small text on the envelope. "What does that say? On the envelope," she called.

"Univeristy of California Berkeley," Quinn explained.

The audience's murmurs evolved into full-out conversations. Some members of the audience were rubbing their chins, others were sighing. It was clear to the twins that many people emphasized with this student, whose entire future was hinging on one last, unopened letter.

The head judge stood up onto the desk. "Thank you Ms. Morgendorffer, Ms. Morgendorffer."

The twins bowed, and the audience applauded politely.

"Well," Daria whispered dryly to Quinn, "That was quick."

XXXX

Instead of being greeted by sneers and jealous stares upon their return to the box, the twins instead were met with polite compliments and congratulations for their work.

"You'll probably win," a couple artists told them.

"We'll see in half an hour," Daria replied.

They sat back with Cassandra. Quinn gave a sigh of relief. "It's over. Whew, it's been on hell of a birthday."

"Yup," Daria agreed.

"I hope you two win, I loved your poster so much," Cassandra enthused.

"Nah," Quinn said playfully, waving her hand in dismissal. "You should."

Cassandra played a long. "No, you ought to!"

XXXX

Half an hour passed. The announcer, a balding man with a blue tuxedo, said into his microphone, "And now, we announce the winner of the contest. My oh my, we have seen some truly wonderful artwork here tonight, and I'd like to congratulate all the teenagers here who have produced such marvelous works of art, and thank them for taking their time to be here. And I believe we have a verdict, right?" he asked, giving a quizzical eyebrow at the judges. The audience laughed.

He waved his hand. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. But I'm not kidding about this: we have a tie." The audience murmured. "The winners of the national "Student Life at the Dawn of the Millenium" art contest are….."

XXXX

Daria and Quinn walked up to the front door of Harris Studios and rang the doorbell. "Do we have to do this now?" Daria groaned at her sister.

"Shp!"

Sighing, Daria rang the doorbell again. After waiting a few moments, she said, "You know, maybe he's not-"

Gage appeared at the door. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He removed a bobby pin that he'd been holding in his mouth. He smiled. "Hi, did you-"

He was silenced as the twins stepped forward as Quinn gave him a brief, but full-on kiss on the mouth. Gage's eyes bugged out.

The twins stepped back. Quinn nervously giggled at what she had just done, but she managed to compose herself and said, "Thanks for the birthday present."

Gage's pale skin color suddenly looked very rosy. He stammered, "Um, uh, you're uh, w-welcome." He uttered his own nervous laugh, trying to recover from the shock of his lightning-quick first kiss. "I'm glad you liked it so much."

"I did!" Quinn exclaimed. "It was so beautiful, it was the most beautiful thing ever, I felt so happy wearing it. Can I keep it?"

"Of course! It's gift!"

"Thanks!"

Daria looked at her watch, then at Gage. "I'm sorry, but we have to go home, our dad's on a schedule." She pointed out the silver Lexus, sitting at the curb.

"Oh, uh, okay," Gage said. "Glad you came by!"

_I bet,_ thought Daria, but not derisively.

As they walked away, Gage called, "Hey! Did you win?"

They didn't seem to have heard him. But after a moment, without looking back, the twins each gave him a thumbs up behind their back.

-Many thanks to Peetz, Shiva, and Kristen Bealer for beta-reading!

Man, I'm glad this is finally done. School's been keeping me from finishing it for the past half year. Hope you enjoyed it!


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